#but there’s still so many people it’s hard to maneuver

[dilfenthusiast]

I feel like every time I drive at night there’s someone driving with their high beams on. And I’m not even talking about headlights that are bright LEDs, I mean actual high beams. Either someone driving at me and blinding me, or someone driving behind me and retina blasting me via mirror reflection and lighting up my whole car cabin, making it hard to see the road in front of me.

And don’t even get me started on the number of people driving with their headlights off because they think their Daytime Running Lights on and they think it’s enough? But then their tail lights aren’t on and you almost run into them because they’re driving a black car.

I’m starting to believe that it’s a detriment to society that we allow people to “learn” to drive from their parents. Like if their parents are shit drivers and don’t know about cars and don’t explain how to use their cars, we perpetuate the problem. Genuinely starting to think we should move towards driving schools like Japan in order to get a license, not just memorizing road signs and then being released onto the road.

“I failed my permit test 5 times and my driving test 3 times before getting my license hehe” you should not be driving. Honestly.

And I understand this also leads to discussions of public transit (more people who don’t like driving and don’t want to should have the option of a robust and reliable network of bus and rail) and privilege (driving schools cost money, not everyone has parents who can teach them) but like … that’s for another post.

[infamous-if]

.1

As won by the poll, the MC x Seven first kiss drabble is first! A few things: 1) this drabble is fucking long sorry and 2) though this is what I imagine their first kiss to be like, I don't want to go as far as saying it's completely canon, mostly because I'm sure it can go many different ways with different types of MC's. And 3rd) I tried really hard to make this fluffy and not so serious and I'm sure you can see the shift where I thought 'oh crap' but...I am not a fluff writer and I will be working on that lmao 4th) as always, I do not edit my drabbles and I really only do one draft of them so excuse the wordy/awkward sentences or typos or any of that sort and finally, sorry about that last line lmfao

“Have any of you seen Seven?”

That’s the question you’ve been asking all night since your band left The Golden Spoon, a bar in the crux of the city. It had one of your best audiences in recent memory; there were no lulls in engagement, no dull moments that made you question yourself. People loved the songs and danced their hearts out, some even asked for pictures once the set was over. Fame, however small, feels pretty fucking good. 

That holds the most truth in Seven. After the set was over, they were on a high, laughing and talking to anyone who offered them even a sliver of their time. That’s usually how it goes with a successful set--Seven becomes a magnet for all sorts of attention. Unreachable, untouchable. No wonder you barely had a chance to talk to them after leaving.

It didn’t bother you, considering you were all heading to the bar owner’s apartment for a small after-party. You just assumed you’d talk to Seven there, considering it’s an apartment. Eight-hundred square feet at most. Small enough that you could spot Seven’s familiar red bandana in any crowd. 

Or not. 

The group you just asked share equally confused looks and answer with varying shrugs. 

You huff, pushing through the slightly sparse but growing crowd. You maneuver through the kitchen and ask a haggle of women who claim they didn’t even see Seven arrive. The man standing alone in the hall? Saw Seven once and never again.

You’re growing frustrated.

With every answer, your impatient grows. Where the hell could Seven be? You came with them but were quickly swept away by the hordes of people throwing various questions and praise your way. Seven hasn’t responded to any of your texts either, which sprouts up a small seed of worry in you. 

“Hey, MC!” 

You look up to see Jazzy beckoning you over to the couch in the living room, where most people have congregated. In the center stands Rowan, gesticulating wildly as he tells a story from high school...one you’re sure you’ve heard many times before.

Jazzy waves you over again and you sigh. Half your mind still on Seven’s whereabouts, you stride through the living room and take a seat in the corner of the couch next to Iris, half your body pressed against the armrest.

“…and that’s when I had to sit down because I kid you not, I was about to fucking eat concrete…”

The group laughs as Rowan weaves a tale of failed skateboarding antics. The names of you and your friends come up a few times, and whenever Seven is mentioned you can’t help but jolt and look around in hopes that they slipped back inside at some point in the story. With every mention, your body deflates further and further.

Until your phone buzzes. 

You turn it around, only to catch Seven finally responding to your million texts asking where they are.

Seven: Roof

You quirk a brow at the message—the one word that says so much—and type something quickly in return.

You: Thought you died.

Another buzz.

Seven: Can’t get rid of me that easily.

You snort, though no one else is laughing. You lower your phone a bit to appear engaged but send back a quick text. 

You: Aw, really? I was hoping I’d finally be free of you.

Seven: Har-har. Are you coming or not? I’m feeling lonelyyyy

Your heart races and another laugh bubbles out of you when Seven sends a GIF of someone ungracefully falling on the floor. You didn’t realize how much of a relief it is to hear from them until now, seeing Seven’s text on your screen. Is your body that attuned to them? That, whenever they’re gone, you can feel their absence, so palpable it’s as if a part of you is missing? When they’re near, you feel more than complete. Drowning in so much joy that it’s almost overwhelming?

What do you call that?

You shake away the thoughts and send a reply: Coming. 

Brushing yourself off when you stand, you catch your friends looking at you. You shoot Rowan a small smile and walk out of the living room, where you quickly hear him go into another story about who-knows-what. At least the party seems interested.

Another buzz. 

Seven: Bring some bears please

You: Bears? 

Seven: Beers. Whatever. 

Shaking your head, you put your phone away and divert your path to the kitchen where you swipe two bottles of beer. You use the end of the counter to pop open the tops before making your way out of the apartment…only to soon realize you don’t actually don’t know where you’re going.

Dangling the beers between two fingers, you take out your phone. 

You: Where am I going?

Seven: Are you serious? It’s a roof. Just go up.

Seven: lol

You: I will kill you.

Seven: OMG you really are trying to get rid of me

You: Seven Lawless

Seven: Using my whole name? Just shivered. The roof entrance is down the hall to your left. Ignore the signs telling you…not to go to the roof. 

You move to the door and sure enough, there is a large sign warning of any trespassers. 

You: You mean the sign saying that ‘violators will be fined and/or arrested?’

Seven: Ignore it. It’s just a very strong suggestion

Seven: (trust me) 

Scoffing, you push it open with your shoulder and go up the single flight of stairs to the roof. Stepping outside grants you a cacophony of sounds; car horns, the sound of the wind rushing past your cheeks, music playing from Seven’s phone. 

“I’m starting to think you look at the floor plan of every place you enter just to find the roof,” you say by way of greeting as you approach them.

Seven looks behind their shoulder from their spot on the ledge, their previously blank face widening into a sly grin. 

Your heart races at the image of Seven smiling at you, though you quickly push it down. You don’t know what’s been happening but lately, everything Seven does pulls a reaction from you. A simple look makes your stomach squeeze. A brush of their hand sends goosebumps up your arms. A smile can throw your whole body out of whack. 

“I needed a break,” Seven replies, turning back around to face ahead. As you get closer, you see their legs dangling over the edge. It’s not too far below—the building is four stories—but it’s still enough to give you vertigo when you go to sit next to them. “Someone asked me to sign their divorce papers."

Your lip twitches as you hand them a bottle. “Did you?”

Seven looks over to you, gaze glittering beneath stray strands of dark hair that fall in front of their eyes. “Yes.” 

You laugh and Seven swats your following hand away in your attempt to shove them to the side. “Woah, woah!” Their brief panic from the possibility of falling is laced with humor and you let out a small, ‘sorry!’ that Seven waves off. 

"Signing divorce papers," you muse. "I wonder what we'll sign when we're global rockstars."

Their humor subsides, and their smile weakens as they toy with their bottle. You wait, silent, as Seven inhales through their nose and says, “Do you ever regret it?” They gesture vaguely around them. “Doing…all of this?”

You face ahead and think about it, stretching your legs out in front of you. “Not really. Do you?”

Seven takes a swig of their drink before setting it down next to them, lifting both shoulders in a quick shrug. “No. This is all I ever wanted to do.”

“Then why don’t you sound so convinced?”

Their eyes cut to yours and they snort a little. 

“Hey, you brought it up,” you prod.

They huff through their nose, eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. “Shut up.” Once again, their humor is brief, and you start to think that there must be something within Seven that’s torn, fighting to come out. It wouldn’t surprise you; Seven has always loved too much, hurt too much, felt too much. They call it a Fatal Flaw, how attached they get, but really, you find it endearing. It’s rare to find people like them in this world. You wish they knew that. “Ah, I don’t want to ruin the mood.”

You nudge them. “Say it.” 

They begin rocking back and forth in thought, nudging you back every time they move. “Sometimes…when I’m on stage…” They clear their throat. “Sometimes I feel so lonely.”

Oh.

You expected many things, but not that. 

Lonely? Seven is lonely? Granted, Seven hasn’t had the greatest home life, but you assumed that they found an abundance of people to surround themselves with. Hell, they looked like they were having the time of their life after the gig!

Seven’s frowning now, their eyes glazing over with an emotion you can’t read. “I see all those faces and I love it. The attention. The way they sing our songs. I feel fucking alive, you know?”

You nod, hanging on to every word. You understand them; the feeling of music and standing on that stage, singing emotions and states of being that can’t be explained in any other way but through song.

“But then I look back and…” They chew on their inner cheek, brows furrowing as they evidently search for the right words. “I wonder if they see me. Like really see me.” 

Your lips part. For a moment, you’re speechless. “Sev—“

“And I know it’s unfair to think that,” Seven breaks in quickly. “They’re fans. I shouldn’t put so much responsibility on them, but it just….fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“No!” you say. Seven jolts and whips their head toward you, giving you a look of alarm. “I get what you’re saying.” You adjust to face them completely. “I feel it too, sometimes. You just want to be seen not as Seven Lawless but…” You clear your throat. “Seven Duckstein. You know?”

Seven holds your gaze. Their eyes sparkle under the fairy lights that are strung around the lattice detailing on the roof. As their eyes dart around your face, searching for something, you wonder if it was wrong to bring up their real name. It’s always been a sore topic for them, amongst other things. You just hope Sev understands what you’re trying to say. 

They crack a small smile and nod. “Yeah.”

You let out a small breath of relief, grateful Seven understands what you mean. You gaze around, looking down at the street below. Distantly, you can feel Seven’s eyes still on you. Your skin burns under their stare, but you do your best to keep looking at the tiny people running inside shops, chatting, and slipping into cars. Living entire lives that you will never know the depth of. 

You wonder if you have learned the true depth of Seven Duckstein. Even after all these years…they still seem like a mystery to you. 

And you sort of hate how exciting that feels. As if uncovering the hidden layers of your best friend is something to look forward to. 

“I’m not lonely with you, though.”

Your eyes flicker up to meet theirs. You laugh a little. “How could you be? I’m with you 24/7.”

Seven rolls their eyes and it’s their turn to shove you. “Can you be serious a sec? I’m trying to tell you I appreciate you.” They drag the syllables on the word ‘appreciate,’ trying to emphasize the severity of the moment. 

You raise your palms in mock surrender. “Keep going. I’m listening.”

They pause for a beat. “No. I’m nervous.”

“What!”

“Too much attention.”

“You’re a performer?!”

They raise a finger. “That’s different.” 

“Oh, please—“

Somehow you and Seven fall in a lighthearted round of bickering, swatting each other’s hands as you playfully fight. That fighting soon turns into tickling, and Seven’s usually even voice turns into high-pitched squeals that you wish you could record to use against them later.

You don’t know how it happened, but somehow Seven ends up on their back, sighing happily at the darkened sky that hovers over you both. You lean on your side, your body pressed against Seven’s, and rest your head on your hand.

“Come onnnn,” you prod, poking their rib. They squirm. “Tell me how much you appreciate me.” Your voice softens as Seven’s humor dies. “Tell me how you really feel.”

You meant for it to come out as a joke, but the delicacy in your voice betrays the true intention that’s hiding deep within you.

Seven’s eyes slowly, hesitantly, glide away from the stars pulsing in the sky to meet your eyes. With their hair framing their face, their small smile, and the glare of the fairy lights dancing on their face, they have never looked so vulnerable.

So…different. 

“I don’t think I should.”

That has you stiffening. A flare of panic rises in your stomach. What does Seven mean by that? Part of you knows but…no. You’re being ridiculous. 

They turn their head away, rolling their lips. It’s silent for a moment. You convince yourself Seven won’t speak until they say, “I’m afraid. Of you.”

“What?” you blurt, eyes wide. You hardly know how to act right now. This conversation has gone a direction you’re not sure of.

They turn back to face you. “You have too much power over me. It scares me.”

You open your mouth to speak. The only thing that comes out is a pathetic noise from your throat.

Seven snorts at your reaction, frowning at the sky. “You really don’t know the effect you have on others.”

“I doubt I have any impact on others," you mutter, feeling oddly self-conscious.

“Fine then. You don’t know the effect you have on me.” They huff, throwing their bandana aside to run a hand through their hair in frustration. “It’s kind of annoying.”

You sputter out a laugh, reaching out to poke them again. “Are you seriously insulting me—“ 

Seven grabs your hand mid-way, their skin warm against yours. You look down, staring at the polish on their nails as they curl their hand around your palm. “I’m not trying to insult you.” 

“Then what are you trying to do?” you mumble, your eyes still on your joined skin. 

“I’m trying to do as you asked.” Seven inhales a shuddering breath. “I’m telling you how I really feel.”

You jerk a nod. “Okay. Sorry.” Your voice is quiet. “Go.”

Silence.

Seven’s lip twitches as they look up at you. “Nervous again. Too much attention.”

“Fuck off,” you throw out, though there’s no strength behind your words. 

It’s Seven’s turn to apologize. “Sorry.” They swallow. “I just think I might mess up my words with you looking at me.” 

You debate something. Debate the logic behind whatever you’re going to say next. This moment feels too big to make decisions on feelings you don’t know are fleeting or not. This is Seven. Your best friend. Anything you do will permanently change the comfortable camaraderie you two have had since you were kids. 

But…you can’t stop from thinking it might be worth it anyway. 

“Then don’t use words.” 

Seven’s lips part, mostly from surprise. And then you see it; the shift in their expression-- from uncertain to determined. Their eyes darken and slowly, they release their grip on your hand to place it on the back of your neck, pulling you toward them. 

Your heart races in your chest. Are you two really doing this? After years of casual closeness; sleepovers, handshakes, private looks across crowded rooms. Has there been an underlying attraction you just never paid attention to? Or maybe you did, and both of you were too afraid to confront it. 

Seven is slow at firs, as if they aren't quite sure they should be doing this after all. But when you don’t pull away they grow the confidence to close the remaining inches of space between you.

Kissing Seven isn't like anything you imagined. And you can't lie; you've imagined it plenty of times.

What is happening...?

Lips warm against yours, you clutch the leather of their jacket as they pull you closer. The kiss is a messy and desperate dance of teeth and tongues but you don’t mind. Not when Seven tastes like gum and alcohol and is sending goosebumps down your arms as they absently run circles on the skin of your neck. 

Messy seems about right.

Seven smells of lavender and pine and mint and so many other smells you never noticed until now, when you’re so aware of them and their existence that your brain can’t make out any words except Seven Seven Seven.

Seven kisses you like it's their own salvation; as if kissing you now is the only thing anchoring them to this moment. As if pulling away means breaking whatever dream you two have found yourselves in. So they pull you even closer, deepening the kiss and sighing happily into your mouth.

You could kiss Seven Lawless all night. Shit, you could kiss Seven Lawless forever.

They tug on your lower lip with their teeth just lightly before closing their mouth to plant a more chaste kiss before pulling away. You swallow a frustrated groan, stifling the urge to pull them back into another kiss. 

Your eyes flutter open at the loss of warmth.

"That...that was a lot better than I thought," they breathe.

"You've thought about it?" you joke, careful not to speak too loudly in fear of ruining the moment.

Their answering nod is jerky. "Yeah. An embarrassing amount of times."

You both laugh. The humor quickly dies. Then...the worst part comes: the silence.

The horrible, awkward silence.

See, no one ever talks about what comes afterward. The reality of realizing what it is you've just done. The panic that follows the post-kiss clarity.

“Uh…”

“Er…”

They slowly drop their hand from your neck. 

And then they burst up, making you fall back on your ass. 

“You—“ They whirl around. “Did you just kiss me?”

“Me?!” you guffaw, standing on your feet as well. “You mean you kissed me!”

“Me?” They stand there, and then a manic, happy laugh escapes them. You watch as they put their hands on both of their cheeks, blowing out a long breath. “So I did, didn’t I?”

It’s your turn to laugh. You feel drunk. “Yeah. You did.”

“You kissed me back.” Their voice comes out almost accusatory.

“Yeah.” Your brows furrow. “…I did.”

Seven and you stand there. A rush of wind passes. Neither of you speak.

Until both of you do.

“That—“

“We—“

Seven physically clamps their mouth shut with their hand. Your brain is a static fuzz of nothingness. 

Songwriters at a loss for words. It’s almost funny. 

“Is…” You clear your throat. “Is that how you really feel?”

Seven meets your eyes and then quickly looks away. “Yeah.” A mumble. “For a while now.”

Your eyes widen. “I—“

“Don’t say anything!” Seven raises a hand, stopping you. 

You jolt, mostly because Seven just acted like they saw a bug or something. “What!”

“You know in the movies and TV shows where a person confesses to another person and that other person feels obligated to say something back even though they likely didn’t think it through as long as the other person?” Seven says in one breath.

You blink. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“—well, I always found that to be pathetic. Almost like a pity response.” They begin nervously smoothing their hands on their pants, exhaling a heavy sigh. “Just don’t…say anything, okay?”

“Seven.”

Seven, still a bit frantic, comes over to you and puts their hands on your shoulders. “Just forget this happened. I’ll get over it. I just…I may have drank a bit and I needed to get it out of my system and I don’t want this to ruin what we have.” 

You have whiplash. Maybe it was you who drank too much. You two were just kissing—kissing—and now Seven is telling you to forget it...?

“That kiss was in the heat of the moment and I mean, I did like it but it may be weird and we’ve been best friends for so long that I know you might find it odd. And hey,“--they let out a burst of shaky laughter--"maybe we can write a song out of thi--'

You pull their face forward, stifling the rest of their words in another pathetically desperate kiss that burns you all over.

It takes Seven a few seconds to catch up, but when they do, their hands go from your shoulders to your cheeks, cupping your face.

By the time you pull away, you're both slightly breathless. You say, “Just…shut up.”

Seven simply stares at you, parted lips glistening and eyes peering at you as if you’re a painting in the Louvre. Like you're something worth their awe and wonder. 

Maybe it’s now, just like when they were laying down, that Seven is seeing you differently too.

The sound of metal squeaks in the air with the door opening. You and Seven jolt, quickly shuffling away from each other just as Rowan, Iris, Devyn, and Jazzy appear. 

“We were looking for you gu—what’s going on?” Jazzy asks, her eyes darting between you two.

“Nothing.” Seven takes a wide step away from you, swiping a hand across their lips. You swear you see the shadow of a smile on their face. “We were just...talking.”

“You were missing the party, Sev Sev.” Jazzy comes over to Seven and throws her arm around their neck in some sort of move that can’t possibly be comfortable. “Where did you go?”

“Sorry, Jazz Jazz,” Seven jokes back, exasperated. They keep one eye on you as Jazzy pulls them away back inside. They steal one glance at you before they disappear down the stairs.

You stand there, ruminating over what just happened. Your lips still sting and the phantom touch of Seven’s mouth still makes the hair on your arms rise.

“You okay?” 

Rowan’s voice has you jolting back to the present. “What?”

“You and Seven.” Rowan gestures at you. “Are you guys alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” You wave a dismissive hand as you begin walking back inside. “Totally. We’re just peachy. What are we doing?”

“We’re heading home, actually,” Iris says, shooting you a curious look. “Party got boring.”

You snort, and you and your friends walk down the stairs to meet Seven and Jazzy in the hall. Seven looks your way and quickly averts their gaze, grazing the bottom of their teeth along their lip in evident thought.

You know, eventually, you and Seven will have to talk about…whatever that was that just happened. You’re not quite sure yet what it means. Though you do know one thing: tonight has changed something. Suddenly your friendship is something far more than precious: it’s fragile. And you can’t help but wonder what that kiss means for it.

“Should we get something to eat?” Iris asks the group as you saunter out of the building. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Rowan snorts, weaving Iris’s jab. 

“I’m okay with anything you want.” As Seven says this, they look over to you, and you know they’re not just talking about food.

“Yeah,” you decide. “Me too.”

“Burgers it is,” Iris says. Devyn hums in agreement.

Seven smiles at you, and you can feel the shift in them. When they gaze at you, something else lies there. Something else that makes your heart quicken.

Yeah, you may not know what comes next in your friendship, but you do know one thing: you and Seven will never part.

And that thought comforts you.

[nomazee]

keep my blankets warm and my name in your mouth

after a night of soaring through belobog's liquor, you finally face the consequences of it on the floor of your hotel room. thankfully, dan heng has experience with taking care of idiots (i.e. you)

dan heng x gn reader — drunkenness, sweet and sappy and sarcastic, dan heng is probably ooc, reader is trailblazer but this is set vaguely in canon & lore doesn't matter, stupid people who love each other but never say it, are they dating or are they toeing the line of cohabitation in the middle of a hotel room?

sequel here

notes: oh gawsh hey guys... yeah yeah it's been forever since i posted but i giggled at all the requests i miss and then instead of doing those i wrote this, but TRUST i am getting back to all of you in a timely manner i love you all thank you so much for sticking with me, i'm coming out with a follower event once i hit 1k (soon) so be excited! love you guys and enjoy

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

Dan Heng is an awful caretaker, really, and you should’ve known this because of his deadpan and often awkward nature. It just never really occurred to you until he’s truly saddled with taking care of a living, breathing thing—i.e., you, drunk and vomiting into a trash can after a spree through Belobog’s bars. 

In your defense, having no memories means having no experiences to your name (other than everything you’ve been through on the Express so far, which is maybe more near-death experiences than you’d like to have), and you heard that being drunk was just something everybody experiences at least once. 

Then, Pela texted you that one time asking for quick tips to sober up, and it dawned on you that you don't even know what that feels like, and then—who cares, really, you don’t have half a mind to think of your tragic pre-drunk backstory when you’re trying not to die of embarrassment as Dan Heng maneuvers you in a way that won’t get vomit on your clothes. 

The cold tiles of the Goethe Hotel en suite bathroom aren’t enough to bring you to full awareness, so you let Dan Heng ragdoll you into kneeling over the trash can and pull any dangling accessories away from your, um, line of fire. 

“Why would you guys let me do this?!” you wail in disbelief, trying to hold back a mouthful of bile but ultimately failing as you cough into the bin again. You’re truly betrayed at the thought that your closest friends wouldn’t warn you of things like alcohol poisoning, and pacing yourself, and how many drinks is too many drinks. 

“I didn't let you do anything,” your friend retorts, because he’s evil and mean and awful at comforting you, “I told you it would be a bad idea. You’re the one that still went out.” 

“Did I puke in front of everyone?” 

Dan Heng pauses, which is always a bad sign. It means he’s thinking, really thinking about what to say. “At the very least, you puked in the snow and not inside the restaurant.” 

A desperate wailing noise escapes you yet again. Life is cruel, and Dan Heng is crueler. He should’ve told a sweet little white lie and you would’ve been none the wiser and a lot less mortified. “Himeko laughed so hard when we found you that Welt had to make her leave.” 

“Just kill me,” you whisper into the trash can, full of your hopes and dreams and the remnants of your dinner and drinks. “I can’t go back to the Express. Execute me and give me a gentle death.” 

“No need to be dramatic,” he says, annunciating his words in that odd little way he does, and it makes you want to kiss him and read a dictionary to you, cover to cover. “You need to drink water, and then brush your teeth. I don’t trust you showering right now so you have to wait until the morning.” 

“Oh, Dan Heng,” you keen, with the grief of a spouse watching their partner go off to war, “you don’t even want to wash my hair for me?! You just think I’m— I’m a drunken slob!” 

“Be quiet,” he commands through his teeth, embarrassment warming him up—you can feel it, the way the tips of his fingers go a little bit warm from where they rest on your shoulder and the side of your face. “You— I don’t think that. You need to brush your teeth.” 

You definitely are not brushing your teeth tonight. You tell Dan Heng as much but he just rolls his eyes and compromises with a travel-sized bottle of mouthwash that he pulls from the cabinet under the sink. He’s so prepared. Or maybe that’s just the hotel staff. Regardless. 

You rinse your mouth out once you’re fine enough to let Dan Heng pull you up to your feet and rest you against the counter of the sink. He has to remind you multiple times to not swallow the mouthwash, and you bat at him childishly for thinking you’d ever do such a thing—except, you definitely would have drinken down an entire mouthful if he didn't say anything. You can’t bear to look at your reflection in the mirror. You just pray to whatever Aeon is listening that there’s no awful stains on your clothes, and that you don’t smell so terrible that Dan Heng goes running the minute he lets go of your arm. 

“Where’s March?” you whine out as he leads you from the bathroom to the main hotel room, trying to gently set you down on your bed but giving up once you immediately fall into it like an ungraceful rock. “She would be so much nicer. You’re mean. Do I smell bad?” 

“I’m not mean,” he tells you, sure of himself and the twist of his mouth as he avoids looking you right in the eyes. “You don’t smell. You need to go to bed. And lay on your side.” Petulantly, and not without some kicks of your legs and flails of your arms, you find yourself situated under the sheets of the hotel bed, sock somehow off your feet now as Dan Heng pulls the blankets right up to your shoulders. 

“I’m on my side now. Do I get a reward?”

“Why would you need a reward?” 

A disgruntled tsk escapes you and you look up at Dan Heng with an exasperated expression. It’s pitiful enough to guilt him into kneeling down beside your bed so that he’s at eye level with you. “Because I went through so much tonight,” you slur out, words starting to mix with each other as a result of your remaining drunkenness and the exhaustion of the night hitting you. “I’ll take a, um— a gold star, or something.” 

“I can give you a cup of water in the morning.” 

Another dreadful wail escapes you. You’ve never faced evil more potent than Dan Heng, and by the stupid twinge of a smile on his face, he knows what he’s doing. You hate how endearing he is, and how he dangles little treasures like this in front of you. You’re brought back to the heat of his fingers from earlier, the gentle touches he left on your shoulders as he let you puke your guts out without even flinching. As much as you joke, you know Dan Heng’s kindness comes from a lack of evil. Comes from a supporting weight against your arms, comes from travel-size mouthwash, comes from staying in your hotel room until you fall asleep and double-checking that you’re on your side. 

In the morning, you’ll take the cup of water, and you’ll take him out for breakfast, too.

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

[jadeddangel]

Hellooo may I request Husk with a reader whose appearance in Hell is that of a cute little mouse? She is shy and the kind of person to put things as nicely as posible, so she finds it hard to stand up for herself. Basically the "opposites attract" trope, if you are so kind! Thank youuu <3

OMG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!! AHHHH I SIMP FOR HUSK SO BAD

Warnings: talk of gambling, alcoholism, addiction , Trauma and suggestive themes

If you aren't over the age of 18 or of legal age please don't interact, having said that, Enjoy!!

A game of cat and mouse

The sky was dark red and black when you woke up.. there weren't any clouds, and aside from a red hue everywhere, the only thing that stood out was a giant clock in the middle of well wherever you were. Standing up, you brushed yourself off with your paws, wait... paws? You froze looking down at your hands, I mean, they looked normal-ish. I mean, you still had skin, but it was Grey and had fur running down the back of your hands, arms, legs, and shoulders. You had black claws, and you were staring to get overstimulated at all the sounds going on.. you went to put your hands over where your ears were when you were alive and let out a scream of sheer panic. You were scared there were so many things going on, and now you were missing ears?! You paused after a moment, realizing that it was ridiculous. How did you not have ears and be able to hear? And so you finally took a deep breath and went into an alley way as you were pretty much feeling yourself up.

You felt all over your body coming into contact with the large ears on your head and the long fuzzy tail you had. "OK, it's ok. Deep breathes. We'll figure this out it's not a big deal, right? I mean, this is probably just a dumb dumb dream .." You spoke to yourself

You lied. It had been 2 months since you got here now, and no matter what you've done to try and "wake up," nothing was working. And that's why you were standing here in front of the not so popular hazbin hotel. The outside of the large building looked mediocre, at best, and you were being modest. Taking a deep breath of the polluted air you knocked on the front door carefully, the echo of the loud knock spooking you nearly out of your fur. You could hear running towards the door before a brief pause and a blonde demon opened the door. "Hello there, little demon!! Welcome to the hazbin Hotel! Please come in come in!" Charlie greeted as she maneuvered around you, putting a hand on your back and leading you inside the doors closing behind you. You frantically tried to adapt to the new surroundings the princess of hell had forced you into. What you immediately spotted was a couch, a large stair case, a few people, and a bar? I mean, you had heard this was a place for rehab pretty much, not just a standard hotel. Charlie nudged you towards the couch. "Let me introduce you to everyone!! Ok, so we have angel dust, " charlie blabbered out as Angel looked up from his phone and gave you a brief head nod "alastor, our facilities manager, vaggie, my girlfriend and our general manager!! Oh, oh ! And here we have Kiki, razzle and dazzle, they work to protect the hotel!! That's nifty!" Charlie pointed to everyone excitedly, most of them barely even looking at you before the girl she addressed as nifty ran at you with a giant needle." Rat! There's a rat in the hotel!!" Nifty yelled. With a shriek, you jumped onto the coffee table. "I'm not a rat. I'm not a rat!!" You were nearly crying. You were embarrassed about everything feeling like a big deal, and then on top of the panic of being in a new place, it felt like your head was bursting. You had closed your eyes, and the next thing you knew, there was someone picking you up off the table after they had noticed you panic. It was angel dust.. he was holding you high above nifty's reach though he didn't need to cause you saw this.. cat person? Holding nifty up by the collar of her dress.. he seemed tired.. and grouchy . Angel finally set you down "sorry 'bout that cutie, nifty can be a bit much at first," angel said, crouching a bit so he was face to face with you instead of face to tits . You nodded a bit. "Thank you, angel dust," you said quietly, "it's alright, cutie, it's no problem to me, my friends call me Angie btw," Angel said sweetly

And just like that, your stay at the hazbin Hotel began. It was starting to calm down after a few months. You had grown close with angel, the two of you often hanging out at the bar. The cat's name that you had learned was husker, but he preferred husk. Then it all started, late night drinks and talks with husk though you did most of the talking or it wad just quiet. You both talked about so many things, what foods you liked, what drinks you preferred. And even though you were opposites, you were both crazy attached to each other.

You and Angel were having some small talk at the bar just laughing with each other. "And then! Hahaha ha and then Val has the guts to ask me to redo the scene!!" Angel laughed out. You both had been talking about funny stories and about things when you were alive . Angel finished off his drink before winking at husk. "Oh husker~, you wanna do me a favor and poor me another drink kitty?~" Angel asked with a smirk. You could hear husk grumble under his breath about something. Husk then turned to you. "Want another soda? I know you're not much of a drinker, so I asked Charlie to get us some, " husk said, leaning against the bar counter slightly. You gave him a happy nod before handing him your cup, soon husk left, and Angel smirked at you .oooooo you and Kitty got somethin' goin' on, don't ya' ?" Angel teased poking your shoulder a bit. Your cheeks turned a darker Grey at his words "w-what?.. me and husk what? No way psht- that's ridiculous. Why do you think he likes me?" You were embarrassed, but God, you were curious. Did Angel know something you didn't. "Mm, I'll tell you if you tell me what made you die , deal?" Angel held his hand out a bit.. you took a moment questioning if it was worth it before shaking his hand. "Deal.."

You took a deep breath "Alright uhm it was my boyfriend's fault.. you see, I had this really bad habit of falling for people that really didn't care about me.. they just wanted a body or something they thought they could gain.." You spoke quietly before clearing your throat."I was beaten to death.. I thought I was just going to sleep, but uhm, he had caused internal bleeding and..." You zoned out a bit."That's why I'm a mouse.. I'm just viewed as prey and a good pet for some person that thinks their god. " You ranted a bit

Angel looked guilty about making the deal, having heard that.. "Oh, cutie.. I'm sorry.. uhm, I don't know if husk likes you, deary, " Angel said softly while rubbing your back . You sighed a nodded a bit; husk returned back to the main bar and handed you your glass full of soda gently careful not to spill any before carelessly handing angel his drink ,husk put his hand over yours when you went to grab your drink " are you alright mouse? You don't seem well.. cmon, let's take you to your room.." husk said softly as he walked around the bar and helped you off the high chair before grabbing your drink and helping you walk up to your room. Husk sat you down on your bed, trying to get you to relax a bit. He rubbed over your shoulders, trying his best to soothe you from your emotional anguish that was written on your face. "It's gonna be ok, just relax," husk said quietly while rubbing your shoulders. Husk looked down at you, worried. "I heard what you and Angel were talking about.. I'm so sorry you had to go through that" husk was rubbing along the edges of your ears to help calm you, "Now uhm I now I suck at stuff like this but it looks like you need one " husk said opening his arms a bit. You pulled husk close and cuddled into him, relaxing at the smell of sandalwood and rum. Husk wrapped you up his wings, holding you close. "Thank you, husk.. " you said softly, husk smiled ever so slightly as he rubbed your arms and back carefully "yknow I heard everything even about a certain crush you have. " Husk chuckled a bit. You blushed a bit and went to pull away from the hug, but husk kept you close to his chest "let me finish.. I really like you too little mouse and I'd really like to stay with you for as long as I can.." husk finished finally letting go a bit so that you could pull away if you so pleased. But you could never.. husk made you feel safe made you feel whole.. and nothing could change that.. You had a big smile on your face as you pulled him closer "I really like you too husk.." you muttered. Husk smiled a bit more "so how about we just stay here for a bit and just hang out mk?and if I may be so bold I'd like to ask you to be my girlfriend " husk rubbed your back in soothing circles. You squeaked happily (blame the mouse part) as you nodded like crazy.

Everything is perfect

[innuendostudios]

New video essay! On the Reverse Gish Gallop - how conservatives can ignore 90% of your argument and still appear to be winning.

If you would like more of this, subscribe to Nebula and/or back me on Patreon!

Transcript below the cut.

Say, for the sake of argument, you’re watching a political debate on TV. The conservative candidate has used their opening arguments to dump a truckload of dubious claims on their opponent. You recognize this maneuver: that’s the Gish Gallop! The debater makes point after dubious point, and, if the other debater doesn’t rebut every single one, they will appear to have lost the argument. These points don’t have to be good or hard to disprove, there just has to be a lot of them.

Oh, but what’s this? The liberal candidate seems to have come prepared! That’s new! They succinctly and efficiently dismantle each of their opponent’s arguments, offering a clear rebuttal to every single one. It’s obviously not the first time they’ve heard this particular gallop. So, the conservative’s petard has just fully hoisted them. [“What a hoisting!”] They’ve just lost their own game and have to go on the defensive… right?

Turns out, no! The conservative points to a minor error - maybe the liberal said their program would cost $40 million but is actually estimated to cost 43 - and treats them as an ignorant sap who can’t even count correctly. That is now the subject, everything else has been forgotten, and the liberal is backpedaling.

Wait, you exclaim, how does that work?! The liberal has to rebut each and every point but the conservative takes issue with one and stays in the driver’s seat? Are audiences fooled by this? Are liberals that easily snookered? The answer may shock you!

You’ve just borne witness to The Reverse Gish Gallop, where an entire argument falls apart if any of it can be disputed. These disputes, again, don’t have to be good, they just have to call the airtightness of the argument into question.

A good example is how conservatives obsess over gaffes. (Which, fuckin’... really guys?? [W, Trump]) Some Democrat will be all “conservatives want to shut down post offices as a form of vote suppression; they’re pushing voter ID laws and the post office is where many people get IDs; also we are relying more and more heavily on mail-in voting; they overwhelmingly try to shut down offices in Black and Latine neighborhoods; a lot of services like healthcare and courts still use physical mail by default and there can be serious consequences to getting it late; many elderly people still don’t use email, and, hey, maybe some of them like getting junk mail” “AH BA BA BA THAT’S IT THAT’S YOUR WHOLE LIFE NOW FOR THE REST OF YOUR CAREER YOU’RE THE ASSHOLE WHO SAID OLD PEOPLE LIKE JUNK MAIL.”

Your mistake was assuming that dishonest people abide by the same rules they impose on everyone else. When I was a teenager, some friends of the family would invite me along when they asked my parents to dinner, because I would play with their five-year-old and let the grown-ups chat in peace. And he’d make up games where we’d bat a balloon back and forth or whatever, and change the rules on the fly when it suited him. Because the rule wasn’t actually “you can only touch the balloon once per turn;” the rule was “Andrew wins.”

The purpose of a Gish Gallop is to establish a narrative not through argument or logic but force and volume. Once established, it takes a lot less effort for them to maintain than for you to establish a new one. If they shake confidence in your argument, the audience will often revert to the previous argument, whether or not that one was ever proven. It’s a not about which story is true, it’s about who sets the parameters for all stories going forward; who got there first. This is not a debate; this is a Zerg Rush. Understand: a dishonest argument is Lego - you haven’t dismantled it until every brick is separated. But an honest rebuttal? An honest rebuttal is Jenga.

[yourwosogirly]

Thunder and lightning - Lucy Bronze

Just somet I came up with just a few mo’s ago

Word count: 1.1k

As you made your way down the wooden hallway of the house you and Lucy shared in Barcelona, the sound of your footsteps created a gentle pitter-patter. The familiar creaks of the floorboards echoed through the quiet space.

However, the soft sound of your footsteps couldn't compete with the deafening rumbles of thunder in the distance. With each rumble, your body instinctively flinched, the sudden noise causing a jolt of fear to course through your veins.

Like many children growing up, you too had your own fear that, looking back, seems quite silly and even cringe-worthy. It was thunderstorms and lightning that used to send shivers down your spine.

Regrettably, you never outgrew this fear, leading to moments of embarrassment and laughter when the secret was revealed to others.You couldn't shake it off, no matter how hard you tried. It was undoubtedly a personal struggle, one that made you question yourself.However, you were fortunate to have a supportive circle of people around you who never made you feel like an outcast or labeled you as weird. Their understanding and acceptance provided a comforting refuge amidst your ongoing battle with this fear.

Just talking or even thinking about thunderstorms and lightning still makes your body shiver uncontrollably. It’s one of those moments in life when you have to give yourself a rain check and acknowledge that, in someone else’s mind, your fear meant nothing to them.

Not only was you afraid of the storm, but there was another fear lingering within you.Usually, you would have already resulted to Lucy’s embrace for a sense of comfort,but tonight was different. We had made the decision, long before this stormy night, to sleep in separate beds following an argument we had.

It was an ordinary occurrence for us to have a disagreement, just like any other couple. However, neither of us could recall the specific reason behind our argument. Nonetheless, our stubbornness prevented either of us from extending an apology to the other.

You knocked on the door with a gentle touch, hoping for a response. When no answer came from the other side, you understood the circumstances and pushed against the door slightly. Holding onto the soft blanket draped over your shoulders, you maintained a firm grip as the door creaked open, causing you to wince at the sound. However, your girlfriend remained undisturbed, still peacefully asleep despite the noise.

You experienced a whirlwind of emotions as you gazed upon the love of your life, peacefully slumbering on her side, tightly clutching her pillow. Your countenance softened at the sight of this remarkable woman who exuded a dominant aura, now appearing serene and gentle. However, a tinge of envy welled up within you as you couldn't help but marvel at her ability to sleep so deeply, seemingly unaffected by the weather outside.

Quietly, you made your way deeper into the room, attempting to be as cautious as possible not to disturb her peaceful sleep. In your mind, you silently prayed and wished that she would remain undisturbed as you navigated around the room, specifically over to the right side of the bed—the spot that Lucy had always refused to lie on.

Fortunately, you managed to be successful without waking her, prompting a sigh of relief that released the invisible burden your fatigued body had been unknowingly carrying within your lungs.

You quietly maneuvered your way into her bed, gently lifting the covers and settling myself down to align your body with Lucy's. With delicate precision,you shifted her arm that was obstructing your path and nestled yourself against her chest, relishing in the soothing rhythm of her gentle breaths. To your delight, she instinctively wrapped her arm around me, pulling me closer, and tenderly rested her chin upon your head, causing your eyes to flutter closed in contentment.

In the midst of the raging storm outside, her gentle touch washed over you, instantly dispelling your mounting fears. The chaos and uncertainty that loomed over our little haven seemed to fade away, replaced by a comforting sense of tranquillity.

Gently, you slid your hands beneath her shoulders, carefully positioning myself to provide comfort. With my left arm, I began to caress her back in soft, soothing motions, aiming to alleviate the heat that emanated from her body.

In an effort to block out the chaos around me, my focus remained solely on Luce. Humming softly in her ear, I sensed her slight stirring as she began to awaken, sensing the shift in our gentle touches and the soothing connection that formed between us.

"Baby, what's going on?" Lucy asked, her voice filled with concern as she woke up, instantly aware of the fear radiating from me. She shifted closer, wrapping her arm around me, providing a sense of comfort and security.

"There's a storm," I whispered quietly, my voice barely audible as I fiddled with my hands, suddenly overcome by embarrassment at my own admission. Despite knowing that Lucy was well aware of my fear, I couldn't help but feel self-conscious about expressing it.

With my gaze fixed on the ground, refusing to look at her, I didn't notice the realization that washed over Lucy's face. Her eyes followed my trembling form, and it was then that she turned her attention to the pouring rain outside, understanding the source of my distress.

"I'm sorry, my love," she apologized immediately, suddenly being overwhelmed with guilt for not realising my affection for the storm brewing outside the glass windows.

Though, I myself didn’t blame her since there was no way she would’ve noticed.

"It's not your fault," I shook my head instinctively, rejecting Lucy's inclination to blame herself.

"No, baby, it's not. I shouldn't have argued with you in the first place. If I hadn't, you would have been in my arms, safe and sound," she justified.

"Its okay baby,I've got you now," I sighed wearily, resting my head on her chest. I hoped that she would understand my silent plea for her to remain quiet, as all I desired at that moment was to be enveloped in her comforting embrace and escape from the burdens of the world.

"What can I do to help you?" Lucy sighed softly, her chin resting on the top of my head as we sought solace in each other's embrace. We nestled closer, seeking comfort and warmth.

She knew everything about me inside and out, we had no secrets, that’s how our relationship had lasted so long and including that she knew exactly what would calm me down and help me in situations like these but a big part of it was what I wanted and what I needed.

“Mhm, just hold me and talk about anything," I mumbled into her chest, seeking refuge from the storm. I didn't care what she talked about; her voice alone was enough to distract me from the thunderous chaos while a smile graced her lips.

"Do you want me to sing to you, baby?" she suggested, her face lighting up with a sudden burst of inspiration. I nodded eagerly, desperate for anything that might alleviate the relentless pounding of my heart.

She inhaled deeply, and as her voice filled the room, it instantly calmed my troubled soul. A smile spread across my face, breaking the tension, as I recognized the familiar melody of the song.

Cars outside

That song held deep significance in both of our hearts.

Unless you pack your bags

You're coming with me

I had the sense that every couple possessed a special song that was uniquely theirs.

I’m tired of loving from afar

And never being where you are

Ours were most definitely cars outside.

Close the windows, lock the doors

Don’t wanna leave you anymore

Even before we officially started dating, it had remained a constant presence in our lives.

Ooh-ooh, ah

Ooh-ooh, ah

Ooh-ooh, ah

Our connection grew even stronger once we finally came together.

Don’t wanna leave you anymore

As the last lyrics drifted off her lips, a loving smile adorned Lucy's face as she looked down at me. With gentle care, she brushed a stray strand of hair out of my face, a gesture that brought me a sense of comfort and peace. My body, finally surrendering to the tranquillity she had provided, succumbed to a much-needed sleep.

“Sleep tight, baby”

[coryosmin]

i just think about having modern sej AND coryo as roomates and then fucking you 🙁 or like maybe you and coryo are fucking and sej comes home and instantly joins you

nsfw | mdni | snowjanus x reader | threesome, unprotected sex, p in v, oral, degradation, praise, etc.

realizing i haven’t made true snowjanus x reader content in a long while so now it’s time for some threesome smut

being roommates with coryo and sej had many perks. one of them being that you never had to worry about being sexually unsatisfied. it all began when you had come home one night, complaining about a terrible one night stand you had and that the guy didn’t even last long enough for you to be satisfied. to which coryo offered to help you and sejanus, being the lovely person that he was, wholeheartedly agreed because your pleasure is just as important. thus an arrangement had been made.

the three of you were monogamous with one another, though it remained an unspoken thing. what’s the need to see other people when the people you’re living with already satisfy your each and every need?

which is why, right now in this moment, you were getting absolutely railed by coriolanus. you were laying on your stomach on the bed with your ass in the air as coryo fucked your pussy hard and fast, his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you repeatedly. your eyes rolled back as you moaned loudly. “oh my god,” you moaned out, meeting coryo’s thrusts with your own small movements.

“you like that, huh?” coryo asked, an arm around your waist while the other was tugging at your hair. “like it when i fuck you like the slut you are?” the blond grunted, continuing to plunge his cock inside of you.

“yes!” you mewled, closing your eyes and arching your back in pleasure. “so good, coryo. so so good.”

“good girl,” coryo replied, breathing heavily as he thrusted his hips.

the two of you were so caught up in what you were doing that you hadn’t noticed sej had come home. the brunet stood at the doorway, watching you and coryo with an obvious bulge in his jeans. “well, look what we have here,” sej said teasingly, smirking at the two of you. “were you both too impatient to wait for me?”

“sej,” you moaned, opening your eyes. you couldn’t see him, of course, your head being in the pillows. but regardless, you made grabby hands towards him. as you did this, coryo didn’t let up the pace at all. in fact, it spurred him on to thrust into you even harsher. “oh fuck!”

it didn’t take sej a second longer before he was undressed, crawling over to you. his cock was hard and already leaking with precum. “hey, baby,” he said, caressing your face gently. he leaned down to kiss your lips before fully sitting on the bed. he maneuvered himself so that your head was right near his lap.

without a second thought, you licked the tip of sejanus’s cock, slowly easing your mouth onto his length. sejanus let out a low groan, his fingers entangling into your hair. “fuck,” he groaned.

coryo smirked at his roommates, still thrusting inside of you. he moved his hand that was tugging at your hair and reached over to grabbed sej’s other hand, intertwining their fingers. “she’s such a good little whore for us, hmm?” he said shakily, slowing his pace slightly.

“such a good slut,” sejanus replied, smirking at coryo before looking down at you. you were speeding up your movements, bobbing your head up and down and licking the tip of sej’s cock. it all felt so very good.

coryo moved faster again, causing you to moan around sej’s cock. sejanus let out a moan as the vibrations traveled down his length. “oh god,” sej moaned, closing his eyes in pleasure. “so close.”

“fuck,” coryo groaned, feeling his cock stiffening inside of you as you too felt the pressure building inside of you. you clenched your walls around coryo’s cock.

it didn’t take long for the three of you to cum. the room was filled with loud moans as sejanus came in your mouth, coryo came inside your pussy, and you came around coryo’s cock. and when the three of you finished, you collapsed your head onto sej’s thigh, taking his cock out of your mouth. coryo laid himself on top of you, not quite ready to pull out just yet.

the three of you were breathing heavily, no words were spoken. and yet, you guys were content. because truly, you had the best roommates in the world.

[echoalyssa]

Counterparts | Brian O’Conner

The night air is warm, almost comforting. The city of Los Angeles seemed to have decided to go to sleep tonight. The city, normally bustling with life, was quiet, peaceful. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks up at the moon.

I’m standing in front of Mercy Park’s garage checking the oil level of my bike. My brother Logan is lingering by the bay doors, rearranging a stack of Husky jacks that really did not need to be rearranged. He was skeptical about me going riding with someone outside of our crew, but I had known Brian for years.

He drove with Dominic Toretto. Toretto’s crew were technically our rivals as we worked out of the same part of LA. Though Dom and Kaneko, the leader of the Mercy Park Crew, had come to an agreement to coexist.

We’d decided to leave the JDM’s at home tonight. It was perfect weather to take the bikes out and we’d both been neglecting the machines.

         The loud thrum of Brian’s bike alerts me that he is around the corner. I glance at Logan and narrow my eyes at him, begging him to go back inside and talk to Toby or Ximena. He was ridiculously worried about Brian considering his girlfriend’s dad was the cop who had almost brought us all in. 

Brian comes around the corner and pulls into the garage’s parking lot. He nudges the kickstand out with his right booted foot and then turns the key in the ignition to shut the machine off. He tugs his helmet off, revealing his blonde curls and striking blue eyes. The smile that he aims at me is intoxicating.

He dismounts his bike and crosses the distance towards me. I open my arms for him immediately. His arms go around my waist, and I loop mine around his neck. He smells like oil mixed with an earthy undertone. Brian holds me for a good minute before he steps back and flashes me with that grin again. 

“It’s been too long.” He glances over your shoulder and raises his hand in a wave, “Hey Logan!”

I hear the garage door close and know that my brother has finally left us alone.

“You look good.” I murmur back to him. And he does, he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and black jeans. He has his steel toes on and a thin gold chair dangles around his neck. He’s showered recently, his hair bearing the signs of water. Though somehow there is a dirt smudge just under his jaw, as if he just can’t quite seem to stay away from the grime of working on cars.

Brian pokes the tip of my nose with his index finger and then glances at the garage behind me. He tilts his head in the direction of the street. Even though both crews were on good terms did not mean that we should be hanging out together in broad view.

I pull my hair into a loose braid before sliding my helmet on. Brian starts his bike again, throwing a leg over. He maneuvers it backwards so that he can pull back out onto the road. It’s currently wrapped in white with the signature Toretto decals on the gas tank.

My own bike, a Kawasaki Ninja is blacked out. I went for stealth. The machine roars to life underneath me. Brian nods in my direction and together we rev the engines before taking off down the road.

I let Brian lead; I didn’t mind where we went as long as I would get an adrenaline rush. He takes us through a few side streets before we hit the ramp to the highway. He turns his head, checking to make sure that I am still behind him.

The second he confirms that I am still following behind him like his little shadow, he tucks and takes off down the empty highway. My heart soars as I accelerate after him. The red needle on my speedometer quickly craws into the triple digits.

We’re absolutely soaring, breaking felony speeds, but neither of us have plates. The wind whips his t-shirt around, making the fabric crawl upward so it bunches around his chest and exposes the hard planes of muscle. 

There aren’t many people out on the highway, but we weave through the ones that are. We’re perfectly in sync, reading each other’s movements without needing to communicate. I give the throttle a little more and go surging past him, but only for a moment. He overtakes me. It continues like this for miles, each of us going for the lead. The city is a blur around us.

I outstretch a hand to the wind, feeling the way it pushes my arm back in because of the speed. Anyone who saw us together must have been in awe, we give off an almost ethereal aura. Yin and Yang. Light and dark. One and the same.

We were brothers. But bound by more than blood. We were twins as well. Counterparts. Gangster princes of the city we met.

No amount of words could describe the perfection of the moment between the two of us. A picture would do no justice.

Adrenaline pumps through my veins, one mistake and we would be dead, but there was no fear. Only the urge to go faster, to push the limits. That was the thing about Brian, he understood. That if speed was to lead to our demise, we would go out smiling.

Almost too soon, Brian drops a hand to his side, signaling that he is going to take the next exit ramp. He leans into the turn and checks once more, that I’m behind him. We maneuver down a few side roads and then come to a stop atop a hill. The stars are bright tonight, almost defying nature. 

Brian dismounts his bike first, and then he’s in front of me. I haven’t even finished setting up my kickstand before his hands are pulling my helmet off and his lips are brushing against mine. I sigh into him, trusting that I can tip toe the bike and kiss him back. It’s like a weight has been lifted off of my chest

He pulls away but rests his forehead against mine, his fingers brush the strands of hair that had escaped my braid back behind my ears. “I missed you.”

The only response I can find is to pull him back towards me. There wasn’t much time to spare for either of us, both crews were constantly traveling for boosts, but the time that we did have together… we savored it. Loyalties to the crews aside, the two of us would always come back to one another.

[sissylittlefeather]

Baby, Let's Play House

A/N: I'm not sure how I feel about this one. Like I was so excited to write this idea and then I'm not sure it turned out very well. I don't know. If you like it, let me know because my confidence is slipping. If you read it, thanks as always. You're the reason I do this!

Warning: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, infidelity, domestic violence (happens "off screen", Elvis is not violent), mentions of infertility

Word count: ~3.8k

And a little song inspiration for this one. (I know it's not the title song but it inspired the fic lol)

******

You've been on Audubon Drive for several years when the Presleys move in next door. They seem like nice people: a husband, wife, and young adult son. They wave and smile when appropriate and you go on about your daily life.

You don't have children, so it's just you and your husband in your home. You try to convince yourself that he's not a bad man, but when he has a few too many, he has a tendency to make that a hard argument. But what choice do you have? It's 1956 and divorce isn't something anyone goes into lightly. Honestly, you probably just need to toughen up and realize that this is what you signed on for when you married George. Still, some small part of you hopes that there may be more to life.

One day, you decide to take it upon yourself to help George with the chores. Maybe this will reduce his stress and allow him to be kinder to you. You bring the lawnmower out of the garage with the grand idea to mow the lawn on your own. There's only one problem: you've never used a lawnmower before. You go to battle with it for about twenty minutes before you're so frustrated you want to cry. Finally, you sit down in the grass next to it and try to gather yourself. You're just about ready to give up entirely when you hear him. You look up into his face from your place on the ground.

"Ma'am, can I help you at all?" It's the neighbor boy from next door. You say boy, but he's easily in his early twenties. He's a man.

"Oh, well, I'm just, no I'm fine." He sits down next to you on the grass.

"I'll be honest. You don't look fine. Are you sure I can't help?" For the first time, you get a really good look at him. He's impossibly handsome. The lines of his face are like a Greek god and his lips look like they're soft as marshmallows. He kind of takes your breath away, but you're hesitant to let him know that.

"Well. I've never used one of these things before." He chuckles.

"I suspected as much. Can I do it for you?"

"Oh, my husband..."

"Is he here?" He turns to look up at your house.

"No."

"Then why don'tcha let me help? I'll be done before you can shake a stick." He smiles and you almost melt.

"Alright. If you insist."

"I do. I'm Elvis. Elvis Presley." He reaches a hand out to shake yours.

"Y/n. Y/f/n y/l/n. Thank you, Elvis."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Y/l/n." He pops up off the ground and takes the lawnmower. He skillfully maneuvers it around the yard and you watch from the porch for a bit. Then, it occurs to you that you should do something to thank him. You run inside to make some lemonade. When you come back out, he's taken his shirt off and is almost finished. A thin, sheer coating of sweat covers his skin and something inside you jumps. You stand on the porch with your tray trying not to stare at him as his arm muscles flex with the movement of the lawnmower. At one point, he looks up at you and you look away quickly. When you risk a glance back in his direction, he's smiling the dimpled smile again. Eventually, he finishes and parks the lawnmower in front of the porch. He walks up the steps, wet with sweat, and takes the glass of lemonade that you offer him.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Please don't call me ma'am. It makes me feel like I'm a hundred years old."

"Well, if you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

"That's not a very nice question to ask a lady."

"Oh, I'm sorry-"

"I'm 33." He nods and smiles again.

"That's not old at all, honey." The switch from ma'am to honey is a subtle but deliberate one.

"How old are you?" He grins devilishly.

"Old enough." You feel your cheeks flush with his flirtatious answer. You're trying very hard not to notice how his tanned skin glistens in the sun. But the way he looks at you, like a puppy who hasn't eaten in a week, makes it hard to ignore how handsome he is. He looks out to your yard again.

"Looks like you need someone to sort out those flower beds. Can I come back this weekend?" You think to yourself that George wouldn't like it. But he's out of town for work this weekend and you do need help with the flower beds.

"Sure. Can you be here Saturday morning?"

"I can be here whenever you want, honey." He winks and hands you his empty glass. Then, he takes your hand and kisses the back of it. "I'll see you on Saturday."

"I'll be waiting." You try to hide your cringe after you say it. What on earth made you say that?! But he takes it in stride, grinning widely.

"It can't come soon enough." He walks back across the yard to his home and goes inside. Your chest is heaving and it feels like you can't breathe. No one has made you feel like this in years.

******

George doesn't even notice that the yard is mowed before he leaves for his business trip. You're torn between being disappointed that he doesn't notice your efforts and relieved that you didn't have to tell him about having the neighbor help.

When Saturday rolls around, you wake up early to make yourself presentable. You catch yourself as you're about to dab on your expensive perfume and look at yourself in the mirror disapprovingly. Why are you trying so hard to impress this young man? You put the perfume down and walk out of the bathroom. But before you make it to the living room you go back and dab on the perfume and swipe on your favorite lipstick. Does it really hurt anything to look and smell nice? No. At least that's what you're going to tell yourself.

He shows up around 10am and knocks on your front door. The butterflies in your stomach are embarrassing and you take a deep breath before opening the door.

"Hi Mrs. Y/l/n!" He smiles brightly and you actively try to calm yourself down.

"Hi Elvis. Thank you again for doing this."

"Oh, it's no trouble!" You walk outside with him and show him what you want done with the flower beds.

"I know that's a lot of work. If you don't finish today, it's okay." You look at him and try not to bat your eyes.

"I'll just come back again." He winks and your stomach flip flops.

"Well, I'll leave you to it." You smile awkwardly and he nods. As you walk away, he calls after you.

"I don't mind if you watch." You turn back to him with a shocked expression on your face. "Kidding. Mostly."

His smirk causes a physical response between your legs and you turn and walk away from him as quickly as possible.

A couple of hours later, you peek through the blinds to check his progress. He's taken his shirt off again and you watch as he wipes his brow. You don't even notice you're biting your lower lip until he looks up at you in the window. He smiles mischievously and you realize you might be in trouble.

After another hour, he knocks on the door. You swallow deeply and open it.

"I think I've done all I can do today. Do you mind if I take a break in here? Maybe have some more lemonade?"

"Oh, of course!" He follows you to the kitchen where you fix him another glass of lemonade. When you hand it to him, your fingers touch and you almost drop it. He takes a long drink and then looks around your house.

"Your husband isn't here?"

"No, he's away for work."

"You have kids?"

"No, no kids."

"Hm." He drinks more from his glass and you take the opportunity to look at him again. His hair has fallen from its perfect, slicked back style and the front pieces hang in his face. You become keenly aware of the fact that you're alone in your house with him and he's half naked. Your imagination begins to run wild and you clear your throat to try to get it to stop.

"How do you like the neighborhood?"

"Oh, it's really nice. It's the best place we've ever lived." You nod and he tells you a little bit about the place they came from and how his music career has allowed him to get something nicer for his family.

When his glass is empty, he looks down at it and then back up at you.

"Would you like some more?"

"No, I'm alright Mrs. Y/l/n."

"You know, you can call me y/n."

"Okay then, y/n." He looks into your eyes for a minute before he takes a step closer to you where you stand leaning against the kitchen counter. You look up at him in anticipation and he reaches behind you to set his glass down. He gets painfully close to you when he does so, close enough for you to catch the scent of his natural musk mixed with some other manly smell. He's absolutely intoxicating.

"I should probably get out of here. Thanks for the lemonade." You nod.

"Of course."

"I'll come back to finish those flower beds sometime this week."

"Okay. That sounds good." You're so discombobulated that you don't even think about what might happen if he shows up when George is home. He's got you so distracted that you almost forget George exists. Then, before he leaves, he leans in and whispers in your ear.

"I like your perfume." As he backs away, his lips graze your cheek and a shiver runs through you. "I'll see you soon."

He turns to walk toward the door and your heart pounds so loud you're pretty sure he can hear it.

******

Thankfully, when he shows up on Wednesday to finish up the flower beds, George is at work. You answer the door and he stands on your porch eagerly.

"Thought I'd come finish those beds, if you don't mind."

"Oh, not at all. Thank you for coming back."

"Well, maybe I missed you." He smiles and your heart turns over in your chest.

"Elvis, you don't know me well enough to miss me."

"Maybe I'd like to know you better, then." He's surprisingly serious when he says it. You open the door for him to walk inside and then close it gently behind him.

"I have a husband." You practically whisper it to him and look down at your feet.

"I know that." He tips your chin up so that you're looking up at him. "You just seem so lonely."

"I am." Your eyes fill with tears as you look at each other. A single tear escapes and slides down your cheek. He catches it and wipes it away with his thumb. Slowly, he leans in and kisses your cheek where the tear was. Electricity runs through you and you're overwhelmed with the need for him to kiss you more. Seemingly reading your mind, he leans in again and presses his lips to yours softly. When he pulls back, his eyes flick between yours and then down to your mouth. You can tell he's about to kiss you again, so you look back down at your feet.

"Elvis, I can't."

"Is he good to you?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Like hell it doesn't!"

"Elvis, please." You look at him desperately and his heart breaks for you.

"Okay. I understand."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I'll just get to work on those flower beds."

"You really don't have to."

"Y/n, I want to. Please let me help you." Your heart is warmed by his kindness. He seems to genuinely care about your wellbeing.

"Thank you." He nods and smiles and heads out the front door to the yard.

While he works, you sit in the living room and sob. You're not used to a man who actually cares.

******

"What happened to the flower beds?" George stands at the window on Friday afternoon with a glass of whiskey and a cigarette.

"What do you mean?" You ask innocently, trying to figure out how to answer him.

"They're weeded and there's new flowers."

"Oh, well, I did it. Or rather, I had a friend do them."

"A friend? What friends do you have?" His tone is scathing. He loves to bring up how alone you are.

"The neighbor boy."

"The one with the sideburns and squirrel shoes?"

"Stop, George, he's nice."

"Oh? He's nice? How many times has he been over here?"

"Just a couple of times to help with the yard work." A sickening feeling settles in your stomach as his mouth twists.

"Why is he so keen to help you?"

"He's just a nice kid, George."

"I'll bet he's nice. Men usually are when you fuck them."

"George! I have not!"

"I'm sure, you little whore. You'd give it up to anyone who smiles at you right." You feel the angry tears prick the corners of your eyes.

"George, please stop." He walks towards you menacingly and you cower, trying to avoid him. You close your eyes and pray that he'll get his fill of hurting you quickly.

******

On Saturday morning, George leaves for another business trip and you lay in your bed crying. That's where you are when you hear the soft knock on your door. You don't answer it. But then you hear another knock and Elvis calls to you from the porch.

"Y/n! I know you're in there." You walk to the door and talk to him through it, refusing to open it.

"What do you want, Elvis?"

"I don't know, I just. I wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Your husband. He said something to me. Please let me in."

"What did he say?"

"He said 'she's all yours'. Now let me in. I have a bad feeling about this."

"No. Go home, Elvis. It's nothing."

"Alright, now I'm really coming in. You can open this door or I'm breaking it down."

"Elvis. Don't be ridiculous."

"Here I go! You better stay clear." You hear him back up like he's going to actually try to kick the door in, so you open it quickly.

"Stop!"

"There now that's... y/n..." He pushes his way into the room when he sees you, closing the door behind him. You stand and stare at each other. Then, he gently holds his hand up to your face, gingerly ghosting his thumb over the black and purple bruising on your eye.

"Did he do this to you?" His voice is strained and lower than you've ever heard it before.

"It doesn't matter."

"I'll kill him." You can feel the raging energy coming off of him in waves.

"Elvis, please." The desperation in your voice is the only thing that could calm him down.

"Did he do this because of me?" He practically whispers it. You look down at the floor. "Did he?!"

When he gets loud, you wince and move away from him out of habit.

"Oh, god, honey, I'm sorry." He softens again and wraps his arms around you. You don't hold back anymore, sobbing openly on his shoulder. He walks you to the couch and sits you down next to him, still holding you as you cry.

Eventually, you sit up and look into his face. He shakes his head when he sees your eye again.

"I know I'm ugly with this-" You put your hand up to cover it and he brings it back down.

"Stop. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I just wish I could've been here to protect you."

"Oh Elvis, it's not your-"

He cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours, his hand on the side of your neck. He pulls back a little and whispers, running his thumb gently across your cheek.

"He'll never hurt you again. Not as long as I live." Then he dives back in and kisses you deeply, parting your lips to let his tongue slide into your mouth. He kisses your cheek down to your neck and lays you down on the couch, situating himself beside you. You put your hands on his chest and melt into the closeness of his body. He might be young, but he's strong and for the first time in a long time you feel safe. His hand drifts up and down your back, finally settling on your hip, pulling you tight against him. His mouth finds yours again and your tongues dance against each other passionately.

You know you should stop him. You're married. But you don't. Instead, you let him reach behind you to the zipper on your dress.

"I'm going to take this off now, unless you say no." You're a little surprised at his confidence, but it's obvious he can tell how vulnerable you are. You nod yes and he slowly pulls the zipper down. Then, he sits up and uses both hands to pull your dress forward and down off of your body. He pulls his shirt over his head and kicks off his shoes, lying back down at your side. He rolls his hips into you and you feel his erection pressing against you. His hand slides up your body to your breast and he squeezes it lightly as he kisses your neck. You reach back and unclasp your bra, letting him pull it forward off of you. His mouth immediately goes to one of your nipples and he kisses and nibbles your chest affectionately. He slides his hand under your panties and teases your clit with his finger. Before too long, he slips a long finger into you and begins to pump it in and out. He adds a second finger and kisses your mouth again.

"Does that feel good, darlin'?" You moan softly and nod.

"Yes. Yes it does."

"Good. I just want to make you feel good, baby." He uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit and you whimper with pleasure.

"Oh, you like that?"

"Yes, don't stop!" He slows his fingers down and focuses instead on stimulating your sensitive bud. He drags his thumb over the top of it and moves faster and faster. He watches your body for cues and follows them to bring you the most pleasure. Your breathing picks up as you feel your climax approaching. He rubs a consistent pattern and your orgasm rushes toward you.

"Oh, God, Elvis, yes! Yes!" You cry out as you come hard on his hand. While you ride your body high, he goes back to pumping his fingers, crashing against your g-spot, and you come again, your release splashing out of you. Your legs shake as he pulls his hand away. He pulls your panties down and off and then stands up to remove his pants. They hit the floor and you're shocked to find that he isn't wearing underwear. His cock bounces free and the size of it takes your breath away. He climbs on top of you and aligns himself with your entrance, massaging your sensitive clit with his tip.

"Are you ready?" You look at him hovering above you and you can't believe this is your life. He's so beautiful and so kind. If you're not careful, you'll be in love with him. Finally, you whisper.

"Yes."

He nods and pushes into you, slowly sliding his cock inside. You moan softly as he fills you fully and you stretch around him.

"Oh fuck." He sighs and closes his eyes. You laugh a little at his reaction and he smiles, kissing your shoulder. Then, he picks up a steady pace of fucking into you.

"Is that good, honey?" He whispers in your ear as he pounds you.

"God, yes." You wrap your legs around his waist and he groans. He kisses your mouth with heavy tongue and slows his pace to long, deep strokes.

"Mmm, you feel so good, baby. I could do this forever." A big part of you wishes he would. "But I'm gonna come soon, darlin'. Where should I-?"

"You don't have to stop. I'm not... there won't be a baby." He stops momentarily and looks down into your face. You look away from him and he cups your chin and turns you back to look at him. He kisses your mouth, your cheek, and then your forehead.

"Okay, honey." You never thought you'd find a silver lining to your situation, but here it is. He rolls you on your side to face him with your leg over his hip and begins to pump in and out of you again slowly. Something changes slightly in the way he fucks you. He was gentle and deliberate from the beginning, but now he's even more affectionate, sweetly peppering you with kisses and running his hand over you gingerly. It dawns on you that you've gone from having sex to making love.

He moves his hand down to your hip and holds you tightly as he increases speed.

"Mmm. Baby. It's so good." He rolls his hips into you over and over as his climax approaches. His cock slides in and out quickly and he kisses your mouth one last time before he slams into you and shudders, filling you with warmth. He presses his forehead to yours and breathes heavily. "That was amazing."

You nod and kiss him softly on the lips. He rolls onto his back and rearranges you to lay on his chest. For a young man, he has no problem taking charge and you feel more and more comfortable in his arms. You spend the next few hours in this position, talking about anything and everything. When the sun starts to get low in the sky, he looks out the window.

"Do I need to leave?"

"It's up to you. George won't be home until Monday evening." You feel a lump form in your throat at the thought of spending the next few days alone.

"Then I'm staying. I have to leave on Monday to play a couple of shows, but I'll be back. I'll stay with you until I leave."

"Your parents won't worry about you?"

"I'm an adult. I'll call my mother and tell her I'm staying with a friend for a bit."

And he does. You spend the next two days together, laughing and talking and playing house. You've never been happier in your life. Neither of you thinks about what the future might hold for you. Instead, you revel in the time you have right now with each other. For the moment, you're happy, and no one can take that away from you.

******

Thoughts?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love

[probablyasocialecologist]

The 370-page border bill that Democrats signed off on reads like a GOP wish list. Perhaps that’s because Republicans helped write the bill (though many of them promptly turned around and helped tank it after Donald Trump announced his opposition). Among its provisions: $8 billion in emergency funding for ICE, including $3 billion to increase detentions; a mechanism to “shut down” the border if a certain number of people cross; $7 billion in emergency funding for Customs and Border Protection; and a continuation of Trump’s border wall. A few progressive-sounding add-ons aside, like freeing up a limited number of new visas and hiring some more lawyers, the legislation is a complete concession to the worst aspects of Trumpism that Biden and Democrats purportedly ran against in 2020. How do Democrats justify this lurch toward increased brutality at the border? Some appear to view it as a clever maneuver to beat the GOP at their own game. By adopting Republican framing and policy on immigration, and still getting rebuffed, this thinking goes, Democrats will show voters that Trump-driven hysteria is to blame for the supposed “crisis” at the border. It’s a confounding and amoral “gotcha” strategy, in which people seeking to move across the border in pursuit of safety, work, and a new home amount to little more than a mechanism for media narrative point-scoring.

[...]

Do Democrats now agree with the Republican party on immigration, ideologically? Their outward messaging appears to accept the premise that this hard-right bill will “fix the border” (whatever this means), so it seems they do. Top Democratic senators are proudly boosting an endorsement of the bill by the Border Patrol union, a far-right union with a history of promoting white nationalism and avidly backing Trump. MSNBC personality Al Sharpton, much to the right-wing media’s gratification, said in an interview with Senator Chris Murphy (D-Conn.) Tuesday that “we’re looking every day at the invasion of migrants”—positively Trumpian rhetoric. This seems like quite a pivot after Democratic party messaging ran in 2020 on criticizing Trump’s border policies and rhetoric as akin to Nazism. If so, do the Democrats now owe the GOP an apology? Or, do Democrats not really think these far-right policies are good, but are simply “calling Republicans’ bluff” to prove some broader meta-point? And if so, isn’t it quite a gamble to risk the immigration status of millions and stoke nativist fears to get some cutesy hypocrisy gotcha over on the Republicans? If Democrats can, seemingly overnight, radically alter their position on immigration from one that at least pretended to pay lip service to the humanity of those seeking a better life in the US to nonstop tough-guy posturing about “harsh,” “strict,” “tough” “border security,” then what message does this send to other vulnerable groups?

[supernovafics]

boyfriend!steve is in a band and you go to one of his shows (18+ minors dni)

wc: 1k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

there was something about his hands on that guitar, plucking the strings and switching from notes so seamlessly, that made you want to combust.

it also made you upset that you hadn’t been to one of steve’s shows sooner. but, classes had been so hectic for you lately that it was genuinely hard to find the time; and steve never made you feel bad about it. 

almost everyone in the crowd was staring at him, but he was looking right at you. 

even though there were a bunch of people surrounding you and you weren’t able to get that close to the stage, he still saw you. 

and when he smiled at you, you couldn’t help but shyly smile back at him, even though you hadn’t felt nervous around him in years. 

“you were very hot up there,” you told him after the show when the two of you were seated on the couch in the tiny room backstage designated for the band. “yeah?” he shifted a bit closer to you and wrapped an arm around you. you instinctively leaned into his touch. 

it was only the two of you in the room because his bandmates had already headed to the bar next door to the venue. you and steve planned to meet up with them in a bit. 

you nodded. “i’m like ninety-five percent sure that every girl in the crowd wanted to sleep with you.”

he laughed at that. “okay, i’m sure that’s an exaggeration.”

“oh, don’t be so modest.” you playfully poked his side. 

“well, the only girl i wanna sleep with is right here,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“always the smooth talker, harrington,” you smiled. you then intertwined your hand with his that was draped around you and pulled it to your lips to give it a quick kiss. “also, your hands on that guitar. very, very hot as well.”

you had probably always been obsessed with steve’s hands, something that you had mentioned to him many, many times before, so seeing them “in action” while he was performing that night only increased your infatuation tenfold. 

“mm, really?” he asked, pretending to seem somewhat surprised. he always loved to tease you about how much you loved his hands. 

“yes, the main event in my eyes,” you said and then kissed his hand again. 

he was about to respond with another teasing comment but pulled you sideways onto his lap instead. the black skirt you were wearing rode up a little and his hands settled against your thighs and started tracing soft circles on the bare skin. 

“i’m starting to think you love my hands more than me,” he told you, acting mock offended. 

“they’re definitely a plus for sure,” you said, trying to make your voice sound playful but it was hard to do so when steve’s fingers were slowly trailing farther up your thigh and you could already feel the wetness pooling in your panties at simply the thought of what was next.

you were staring straight into his eyes as you parted your legs just a tiny bit because you couldn’t help but want more, even though the two of you were in a room where anyone could’ve walked in at any moment. 

a small smirk played on steve’s face as he took your action as a signal to keep going, and when he pressed his fingers against your underwear, a quiet moan fell from your lips and he let out a soft groan. “jesus, you’re soaked already, baby.”

a faint “mhm” was all you could respond with at that moment and your eyes slipped shut for a brief moment as you felt him continue to tease you through your underwear. 

somehow you managed to find some logic through your neediness, and you stopped him before he pulled the thin fabric to the side and really felt you. “wait. is there somewhere else we can go? we can’t do this in here.”

steve nodded and slotted his lips against yours for a brief moment before responding to you. “mm, we definitely could. but, yes there is somewhere else.”

you maneuvered off of his lap and stood up and let him lead you out of the room and toward a bathroom that was a bit down the hall.  

when the door was shut and locked behind you both, you didn’t waste a second to pull steve in for a kiss; one that was much less chaste and a lot more desire filled. 

his hands found your waist and gave your skin a light squeeze as he guided you back toward the sink and helped lift you onto it. 

you couldn’t even bring yourself to care or notice how grimey the bathroom was. all you wanted was steve. 

“fuck,” you moaned when his hands left your waist and went underneath your skirt to finally slip off your underwear. 

your eyes fell shut and you leaned back against the mirror as you felt his soft but slightly calloused fingers stroke your wet folds and begin to tease your clit. 

steve let out a quiet groan as he watched how easily his fingers could move through your pussy. “all this for me, hm, baby? all this because of my hands?” 

your mind was already feeling a little incoherent so all you could mutter out was a barely audible “yes” along with something that vaguely resembled a nod. but, that wasn’t enough for steve. 

he stopped the slow circles he was making against your clit and you immediately pouted at him, eyes opening as you met his dark gaze. 

“i wanna hear you, baby,” he said as he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“yes, yes, i’m so wet for you, stevie. your hands, fuck, i love them so much,” you told him as you slightly bucked your hips upward in attempt to feel something. he smiled at how desperate you were for him. 

when he finally slipped two fingers inside of you, with much ease because of how wet you were, you let out a soft whimper and buried your face in his neck. 

he slowly moved his fingers in and out of you, and he could feel your walls fluttering with every movement. “ah, shit, you feel so good, baby. squeezing my fingers so tight, holy fuck.”

you moaned into his neck and the feeling of your lips against him made him go even more feral. he added a third finger and pushed further into you, hitting a spot that made you see stars. 

“oh, fuck. right there, yes,” you practically screamed and had to bite your lip harshly to stifle the noise. 

it was almost too easy for him to bring you to the edge and when his thumb started circling your clit as his fingers relentlessly pounded into you, he could feel how close you were getting. 

he softly pushed you back so that you were no longer moaning into his neck, but instead leaning against the mirror. 

“i wanna see you when you come, baby. you always look so pretty.”

those words alone were almost enough to make you fall apart against his hand right there, but it wasn’t until his fingers hit deep inside of you one, two, three more times, and then his lips ghosted over yours for a brief moment as he said the words, “come for me, pretty girl,” that you finally exploded. your back arched sharply off the mirror and you let out the loudest moan that you couldn’t even bother trying to stifle. 

steve continued fingering you through your orgasm, trying to prolong it as long as possible because he loved the soft sounds that fell from your lips, and his other hand stroked your hot cheek. “so pretty.” 

your eyes finally opened and you smiled at him, breaths still coming out in soft pants. “i love you.”

his lips found yours in a slow kiss that lasted for a few moments before he pulled away and said, “love you too.”

he pulled his fingers out of you and slipped your underwear back up your legs. 

“can this be a post-show ritual now?” you asked as he helped you off the sink and you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

he smiled and softly kissed your lips. “i’d love that.”

[rhoorl]

Turbulence | Part 3

Pairing: Frankie x reader (will turn into an OFC)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 Link

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: These two can’t stay away from each other for long.

Warnings: Masturbation (m). Little bit of angst and some fluff.

A/N: I’m so excited by the reaction to part 2! I’ve been stewing over this story for a while so it’s fun to have it out in the open. Previously on my A/N I said that there would be three parts. I’m surprised no one laughed at me for saying that because of course I’m long-winded and can’t wrap up something succinctly. There will be a part 4 before this story gets woven into Delta Landscaping.

As a reminder, I don't have a beta. Also, I made the dividers :)

“Vamos pendejo, they’re gonna make me circle if you don’t get in,” Santiago yelled towards Frankie, motioning for him to get in the car.

“Fuck,” Frankie shook his head to center himself before walking towards the curb. He opened the back door of Santiago’s car and tossed his carry-on and backpack in before settling into the passenger seat. “Sorry, Pope. Thanks for picking me up.”

As Santiago maneuvered his way out of the maze of cars, he quickly glanced over to Frankie. “All good, hermano. You good?”

“Uh y-yea…I’m great, actually.” 

Frankie stared out of the window as Santiago continued to drive, a smirk coming over his face.

“So tell me more about this handsome man,” Mom looked over at me with those eyes. 

She was trying so hard, but I just knew she wanted every detail but I was still trying to process what happened. Shit like this doesn't happen to someone like me. What are the odds of actually meeting my…whatever Frankie is, or could be…on a plane?

“He uh…he was on the plane with me. Sat next to me so we talked.”

“Good flight then?” She waggled her eyebrows, trying, but failing, to suppress a shit-eating grin.

“We hit some turbulence but…I don't know,” I shook my head and looked out the window. “It's like he made it…better…anyway afterward I wanted to say thank you, so I invited him to get a drink.”

“Please tell me Mac was working today,” she chuckled. Over the last year they had become friends. She would stop by to see him whenever she'd fly up to see me. She was subtly trying to play matchmaker between him and my Aunt Lori.

“He was,” I laughed.

“What did he think?”

“He was really amused by it all. I already know he's going to give me so much shit when I fly out Monday.”

“Did you make plans to see him again? What's his name? Where does he live? What does he do? Sorry,” she glanced over at me quickly before returning her gaze to the road. “I needed to get that out, I’m done, I promise.”

“Frankie, his name is Frankie,” I said softly, twirling my phone. “He lives here. I got his number so we'll see…”

“Do you want to see him again?”

I sat and pondered for a moment, collecting my thoughts. My immediate reaction was yes, absolutely. I wanted to hear his laugh, talk with him, hold his hand…he was such a good listener and was so attentive. I wondered if his attentiveness would also extend to the bed-. I suddenly remembered I was in the car with my mother and had to reel it in.

Taking a deep breath, I looked over at her, “Yeah. I really do. But it's jam-packed until I leave Monday.”

“Not necessarily…” she smirked as she stole another glance my way. “Ok, well, obviously tonight is with the rehearsal dinner. And then tomorrow with the wedding, but it's early…you'll be able to sneak away,” she winked.

“Mom!” I giggled. “I can't ditch Carol and Dave's wedding!”

“Oh stop it, yes you can. There's going to be so many people there, it'll be fine,” she smirked.

Frankie played with his phone, bringing it up to his chin. He went back and forth on whether or not to text. Well, texting wasn't really the question. He knew he wanted to text, but was debating what to say.

I can't just text “hey” that seems so…I don't know, casual? It's one step away from “you up?” and that's not the vibe I'm going for. 

He kept an inner monologue going as he listened to the music coming from the speakers of Santiago's car. 

Think of something Frank. What says, “I want to see you again” but doesn't sound desperate?

Because he did want to see her again. More than anything he's wanted in a long time. It's like something ignited within him, something he thought had long been extinguished…the embers starting to crackle a bit.

He could see Santiago out of the corner of his eye, silently observing. They'd already made some small talk about Frankie's trip and how much it pained him to say goodbye to his niece and nephew. It was a fun visit and cathartic in ways he was still processing.

“Know what you're gonna wear tomorrow?” Santiago finally broke the silence.

“Hmm?” Frankie murmured.

“For the party? Will said that it's a Star Wars theme.”

“Oh shit,” Frankie ran a hand down his thigh, “I didn't get a present.”

“Don't worry, hermano! I got gift cards, a set from each of us, and uh ah,” he put his hand up to stop Frankie from talking, “no you don't owe me back. Just…I don't know buy me a beer or something next time we're out,” he glanced over.

“Thanks, man.”

“I knew you had a lot on your mind, so figured I’d take care of it. Wanna guess what I’m going as?”

Frankie turned his head to the side, catching Santiago's smirk. “Lemme guess. You're going as Poe?”

“I already have the costume, can't let that baby go to waste!” Santiago chuckled.

“I’ll wear some Star Wars shirt I have.”

“See, I knew you were going to say that. I have something for you in the backseat.”

Frankie turned to see a plastic bag. Grabbing it, he reached inside and pulled out a gray T-shirt with BB-8 on the front. He furrowed his brow as he inspected the shirt before the realization hit him.

“Seriously?” He snorted. “Poe and BB-8, huh?” He shook his head as Santiago busted out laughing.

Mom and I got to the hotel with enough time for me to get checked in and upstairs to freshen up before the rehearsal dinner. The lobby was already swarming with distant relatives from both sides. 

We'd chosen to stay at the hotel rather than at home for a couple of reasons. One is the convenience factor. Since the wedding was at the aquarium downtown, it just made a lot of sense to already be down here and not have to deal with traffic. Plus, Carol had us getting up at the ass crack of dawn to get ready.

At the time I booked this, I thought springing for the suite would be a fun treat for myself. However, I wasn’t planning on getting a room that was bigger than my apartment. The bathroom looked like it could fit the entire bridal party in it…or at least one other person with broad shoulders...

My mind flashed to Frankie. His eyes, his smile, the way he smelled when I hugged him at the airport. I shook my head, pulling out my phone from my back pocket. 

I wanted to text him…but say what? I can't ask how his day is going. That's a weird thing to ask. Right? I mean, we don't know each other. I need to think of something funny…or witty…ugh.

Thankfully a knock at the door pulled me from my impending spiral. It must be Mom, figuring she'd pop over and sit with me as I got ready. Opening the door, I was pleasantly surprised to see my favorite cousin Ash.

“Hey,” they squealed, coming in for a hug. “Ah, I missed you!”

“Same!” I returned their tight embrace.

“Can I come in? I'm trying to avoid Carol,” they laughed, looking both ways down the hallway before ducking into my room. 

“Of course, come in.” I shook my head laughing. Ash was always a colorful character and was basically a sibling; we were close in age and grew up together.

“I love my sister but she's a little high-strung. Apparently, some of Dave's family is delayed getting in from Virginia. How that's my problem, I don't know,” they laughed. “How are you? How was your flight?”

“Good, really good,” I gave a tight-lipped smile before turning on my heels and walking to the bedroom to grab my toiletry bag.

“Wooow,” Ash whistled. “You're big time now! Big job so you went for the suite, huh?”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Figured I'd treat myself a bit.”

“And I love that for you!” They sat at the end of the bathtub as I laid out my makeup. “So…spill.” I furrowed my brows, looking at Ash in the mirror. “Don't play coy, your mom already told mine about this guy…you met him at the airport?”

“On the plane,” I sighed. “Jesus Christ, please tell me that story isn't spreading.”

“No, no! Seriously, it's not,” Ash reassured you. “I just happened to overhear it. It was said in passing, I swear, nothing more to it. Buuut, I can be useful,” they raised their eyebrows.

Ever since you were younger, Ash had a knack for “research” as it came to be known. It almost became a game…how little information could you give Ash to be able to turn around a dossier on whoever your intended target was. Although Carol's soon-to-be husband was the government agent in the family, you really thought Ash missed their calling as a spy.

“C'mon, JoJo…please, everyone's in a relationship, it's been so long since I've done this,” they pouted. 

I took a deep breath, I couldn't resist that face. Plus, it was always so funny to see how quickly Ash could solve the case. “Ok. His name is Frankie…he's retired military. Delta Force,” Ash started immediately tapping on their phone. “Has a sister in Dallas. A few friends who live here, two of them just bought a house together. They're brothers. The other one lives with him.” I trailed off as I opened my eyes wide to swipe some mascara.

“Santiago?”

“Y-yeah,” I paused looking at Ash in the mirror. “That was the guy who was coming to pick him up. Are you serious? That's like a new record.”

“Well, your boy doesn't really have much of a social presence…but a couple of his friends do.” Ash came up beside me and flicked through a couple of Facebook and Instagram accounts. I made a note of a couple of the names so I could go back and do my own research later.

“Good to know I still got it,” Ash winked, cracking their knuckles. “So, you gonna see him while you're here? Got this biiiig suite all for yourself.”

I rolled my eyes, “seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. C'mon, let me live vicariously through you! Handsome stranger on a flight. Love at first sight. Hot hotel sex…c'mon it's writing itself!” Ash laughed.

“Whoa whoa whoa … who said anything about love at first sight.”

“You haven't stopped smiling since I brought him up,” Ash nudged my arm with their elbow. “You look beautiful, send him a pic! Have you two been texting?”

“I can't just send him a photo out of the blue, what the hell Ash?!” I scoffed. 

“Ok well, a text? Making sure he got home ok? I dunno something…get the ball rolling. This will be fun! C’monnnn.”

The guys decided to spend a quite Friday at home, sitting around and watching a baseball game over some beer and pizza. Benny was tired from his training schedule so he wasn't up for going anywhere.

Frankie’s cell phone felt like it was a brick in his pocket. He wanted to send a text. He really wanted to get a picture of her, something to look at versus relying on the image his mind kept replaying. He went to the kitchen to grab another beer when he felt his phone buzz. His heart skipped a beat before he shook his head. He didn't want to get his hopes up as he fished the phone from his pocket, but then a big grin came across his face once he saw his screen.

Wifey: Did you make it home ok? 

I did. How about you?

Frankie bit his thumb as he saw the text bubbles pop up.

Wifey: I did. Got a suite. It's nicer than my apartment 😆

Nice. Do you have a good view?

She sent a photo of the bay. She was clearly at one of the nice hotels downtown.

Aww I don't get to see you?

Ash squealed and cupped their mouth. 

“Will you stop it? I'm going to get a noise complaint,” I hissed, trying to play it cool even though I was freaking out.

“I'm sorry, but that was fucking smooth. I like him. Ok, you need to send him a picture.”

I struggled with a flattering angle…this is why I never took selfies. But with Ash’s help, I managed to get a decent one that showed off a bit of my rehearsal dinner outfit too.

“Here goes nothing,” I winced as I pressed send.

“Ooo he's typing,” Ash looked over my shoulder.

Frankie ✈️: Beautiful

Frankie ✈️: The view is nice too

Ash brought their hand to their mouth and let out a little scream followed by a happy dance. My face was starting to hurt from smiling so much.

Frankie instantly saved the photo and then studied it, thankful that now he had something to look at.

“Hey Fish, you brewing the beers yourself in here or what,” Benny came into the kitchen, clapping Frankie on the shoulder as he made his way over to the refrigerator. “Oh hey, Monday you wanna come to the gym with us? I could use you,” Benny started shadowboxing.

“Yeah, Benny, I'll be there,” he smiled. His eyes trailed after Benny as he made his way back into the living room.

As much as Frankie didn't want to, he decided to change the name in his contacts in case any of the guys happened to get a peek at his phone.

The rehearsal dinner went off without a hitch, well, except for the fact that Dave's sister and her family and his coworker Susan and her family were delayed. They arrived as dessert was served.

But Ash and I were in our own little world, giggling and overanalyzing every text. I found out that tomorrow he was going to a Star Wars-themed kid's party at a roller skating rink. Coincidentally it was the same place Ash had a birthday party when we were younger. 

Frankie returned the favor and later sent a photo of his own. It was a bathroom selfie of him in the T-shirt Santiago had bought him. He looked so handsome; a little bit of hat hair, but the curls by his ears were adorable. He arched an eyebrow and pursed his lips in a silly pose that made me laugh. My eyes traveled down seeing how his shirt stretched across his broad chest, the sleeves sitting perfectly against his biceps. I wanted to feel his arms again. It may have been the wine talking, but my mind started to wander to how it would feel to rest my legs on his shoulders as he…

“Psst,” Ash elbowed me in the side, pulling me out of my reverie.

Carol and Dave were standing at our table, doing their rounds greeting everyone. I stood up and gave them both a hug. A lot of people were intimidated by Dave since he was on the more serious side and didn't talk a lot, but I had a soft spot for him. He always doted over Carol and treated her well and she was so incredibly happy.

Once we got a breakdown of tomorrow's events, complete with an agenda with times, Ash and I decided to head out. Carol didn't want us all staying out too late and getting hammered since we had to get up early. I kissed my mom goodnight and Ash and I headed upstairs.

“I am not looking forward to that wake-up call tomorrow morning. Seriously, who sets up hair and makeup at 6? Do we all need to be there the whole time? It's only going to take like five minutes for me to get ready and put my suit on.”

“Relax, it's just one day,” I smiled. “She wants the pictures and the whole nine yards of everyone in their robes getting ready. Now, did she really have to have 12 people in her bridal party? No, that's a little extra,” I chuckled, “but she's absolutely beaming. She's so happy.”

“You're right, she is happy. After all the shit they've gone through, I'm happy they’re getting this,” Ash said with a soft smile before the attention was redirected to me. “Speaking of happy,” they winked.

I buried my face in my hands as we both giggled. When the elevator reached Ash’s floor, they looked at me with a wicked grin “Try and not stay up too late.”

“Goodnight Ash. I'll see you bright and early!” I said cheerily as the doors closed, not missing Ash flipping me off in the process.

Frankie ✈️: I'm probably gonna head to bed soon. Sleep well.

Seriously, this guy is so cute. But my mind started to wander about him in bed…what does he wear to bed? Does he wear anything? I bit my lip at that thought, remembering how big his hands were and wondering if that meant…

Ding.

The doors opened and I shook my head to compose myself. I needed to respond to him and then get into bed. I hope my vibrator is charged, although I probably won’t need it at this point.

Sweet dreams Frankie. 😘

Frankie scrolled back through their text string, smiling to himself. He then came to her photo again. Remembering how perfectly she fit into his arms when they hugged. How badly he wanted to feel her delicate fingers run through his hair, scratching his scalp. Wondering how her hand would look wrapped around his cock.

He shuffled in bed, laying on his back. His mind remembered how her chest felt pressed up against his. The smell of citrus in her hair. Her plump lower lip and how he just wanted to feel it in between his teeth. He spit into his hand, hissing when he reached down and started to rub up and down his cock. 

He felt a little guilty doing this, but he needed to feel a release. Remembering her laugh and how cute she looked when she was thinking. His mind continued to race as he chased that release, it wasn't too far given how amped up he was. He wondered how she would sound. How she'd taste. How her hips would buck and her back would arch when he did that move which had become his signature over the years. Would she let out a breathy moan or scream his name while grasping a fistful of his hair? 

His mind started to go blank as that feeling came over him. Before long, he felt the ropes of his spend on his stomach as he panted, coming down from the high only to realize he was alone in his bed.

The alarm came far too early and I was already wanting an IV of coffee. Thankfully my vibrator was up to the task last night. I laughed at the thought of getting off to a bathroom selfie of a guy wearing a BB-8 T-shirt. I won't look at that little droid the same anymore.

I rushed to put on some jogging pants, a loose top, and my robe. Thankfully, I had packed up my dress and the rest of my accessories, so I just had to grab and go this morning.

When I arrived at Carol's suite, my mom and aunt were there fussing over the spread of fruit and pastries. I spotted Ash in the corner, sunglasses on and hair all askew.

“Jesus, did you get in a fight with your pillow?” I snorted as I walked up.

“I'm not speaking to anyone until I have been awake for a full hour and have had a cup of coffee.” Ash tried to say in a deadpan tone, but immediately cracked up when they saw my face. “How was your night? Your vibrator work or did you kick it old school and use your hands?”

“Will you shut the fuck up,” I hissed. “Grandma is here,” I cut my eyes over to our grandmother who was asleep in one of the chairs.

Ash rolled her eyes. “Well…”

“Yes, it works. It worked quite well.”

“Ha, I knew it! Now all you need is to get an actual di- hi Carol!” Ash gave a tight smile.

“Hi, hey JoJo. Ash, do you want to go first and get this out of the way or do you want to go last?’

“Let's get this show on the road sis!” They winked and headed over to the hairstylist.

“You look happy. My mom said you met some guy on the flight here,” Carol whispered.

“Jesus, who doesn't know at this point?” I shook my head.

“Honestly? Probably Grandma on account of her being asleep,” she laughed. “But seriously, if you needed to duck out of the reception early I won't say anything,” she winked.

The next couple of hours were a bit of a frenzy as I helped the maid of honor keep track of the seemingly endless game of musical chairs between make-up and hair. Once everyone was dressed it was time to stage the getting ready pictures. I'd been so caught up that I missed a text from Frankie. Ash saw it when they picked up my phone to check the time.

Frankie ✈️: Good morning. Hope it all goes smoothly this morning.

Sorry I missed this! It's been hectic but good. We're almost ready for pictures!

Frankie ✈️: Am I lucky enough to see?

Maybe…

He sent a picture of himself pouting and he looked absolutely adorable with his bed head and scruff. I couldn't help but notice he was still in bed. The blue and white plaid comforter pulled up to his chest, but I could see he wasn't wearing a shirt. I bit my lip wondering if he was wearing anything at all as I took in his bronzed shoulders, noticing a few freckles along his collarbone.

How dare you send me such a scandalous photo this early? 😉

Frankie ✈️: So if it were later it would be ok?

Maybe

Frankie ✈️: Noted 

Frankie ✈️: I've been thinking about that dress of yours.

Oh yeah?

Frankie ✈️: I bet you'll look beautiful in it

Well, I'm about to go get dressed. Maybe I'll send you a photo of the finished product

Frankie ✈️: Just the finished product?

I could feel my cheeks getting warm. Thank goodness I was planning on wearing Spanx underneath my dress because my current pair of underwear was soaked. I thought about rubbing one out quickly in the bathroom as I changed but hearing everyone laughing and carrying on just on the other side of the door killed the mood.

Frankie fidgeted on the couch, sitting up to readjust himself as he waited for Santiago to get ready. He felt like maybe he went a little far, but she seemed to be into it so far so he tried to silence that little voice.

“So, what do you think,” Santiago popped out into the living room, giving Frankie a twirl. 

“Looks the same as it did last Halloween, Pope,” Frankie smirked. “Ready?”

“Yeah, we should head out. Lord only knows Will’s going to be early so we’re already late,” he chuckled.

The guys walked out and got into Frankie’s truck. He checked his phone one more time, before putting it in the cup holder and reversing out of his place.

“So, what does he think?” Ash asked as I came out of the bathroom.

“I haven’t sent a photo yet, I wasn’t going to do it in the bathroom.”

Ash furrowed their brows and gave me a skeptical look, “Oh c’mon live a little. Who hasn’t sent a nude in the bathroom before?”

Before you could chastise your menace of a cousin you hear everyone gasp as Carol walked out. She looked radiant and so happy. Dave had sent up a present for her to open - a simple blue sapphire pendant to match her engagement ring. 

As everyone fawned over the gesture and snapped photos, you grabbed Ash and forced them to take a few photos.

“Ooo this one, your boobs look great in that one,” Ash pointed as you rolled your eyes. “What? They do. Ok, send it please.”

Taking a deep breath, I just attach a photo, hit send, and immediately hand my phone to Ash. “Please, I need you to screen his reaction.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek as we both waited for a response. It was an agonizing couple of minutes and my mind raced to all sorts of possibilities before finally I heard the buzz.

Ash looked down and a big smirk came across their face. “He liked it.”

“Lemme see,” I grabbed my phone, unlocking it to see his message.

 Frankie ✈️: Wow, what a finished product.

Frankie ✈️: You look beautiful. 

“See…I told you,” I heard Ash say, but all I could focus on were those messages. I bit my lip to control busting out in a huge smile.

As we got everyone downstairs and loaded into the limos to head over to the venue, Frankie and I were texting. I was so thankful I decided to pick a dress with pockets. I didn’t want to keep him from his friends and he kept telling me he didn’t want to keep me from my bridal party duties, but here we were - still texting each other. 

I’ll be away for a little bit here soon. Ceremony is going to start.

Frankie ✈️: ok, I guess I can wait 😀 

How much longer are you planning on staying at the party?

Frankie ✈️: I don’t know, it depends.

Depends on what?

Frankie ✈️: Might have a date to get to, we’ll see.

Ooo a date, huh? Wow. Where are you going?

Frankie ✈️: Depends. 

Frankie ✈️: Pizza or burgers?

Depends.

Frankie ✈️: On what?

Is it homemade or are we going to a restaurant?

Frankie ✈️: Who said I was taking you? I was planning on asking Lulu. 😉

I stifled a snort, trying to cover my face with my hand. He had quite a soft spot for one of his friends’ neighbors, an older woman he said reminded him of his late mother.

Oh so you have a hot date with Lulu tonight then huh? Too bad…

Frankie ✈️: Why you say that?

I got a pass to skip out on the reception…

Frankie ✈️: Send me the address and what time I can pick you up.

I laughed at the speed at which he sent me that response. I sent him the address of the reception and told him I was putting my phone away for the ceremony. The last thing I saw was a message from him saying he couldn’t wait to see me, which set loose a kaleidoscope of butterflies in my stomach.

“You look happy,” Ash whispered as we stood in line to walk down the aisle, rolling their eyes as one of the other bridesmaids shushed us. “Care to share with the class?”

I kept a coy smile as we continued walking up, waiting for our turn. When it was about to be my turn I turned around and whispered, “I’m going to see Frankie after this.” With a wink, I turned around smiling as I left Ash slack-jawed.

“Hey Pope, you ok to get a ride with Benny and Will? I’m…um…gonna head out,” he took off his cap and quickly ran his hand through his hair before returning it.

“Todo bien Francisco?” Lulu asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Y-yeah, all good. I…um…just need to go take care of something. You good Pope?”

“Si, hermano, go ahead.” He nodded to Frankie.

“Adios Lulu,” he bent down to kiss the woman on the cheek. “Ok, let me go find Olivia and tell her bye and I’ll head out.”

Frankie tried to exit the party as quickly and nonchalantly as possible, so as to not raise too many suspicions. His hand twitched as he walked to the parking lot, the anticipation of seeing her making his heart race. When he finally climbed into the cab of his truck, he took a deep breath before reversing out of the parking spot. 

He hit nearly every red light on the way to the highway and then hit a couple of patches of traffic. But despite all of the delays, he kept a smile on his face the entire time, his mind racing. He was excited and full of nerves, but also a bit scared that maybe once they saw each other again she wouldn’t feel the same. Like this was all about the thrill of a weekend fling. 

He shook his head and tried to keep the intrusive thoughts at bay as he parked, giving himself a once-over in the rear-view mirror. Showing up to a fancy wedding in jeans and a t-shirt wasn’t his idea of a great first impression, but she clearly didn’t care.

A/N: What do we think? These will finally get back together in person in the next chapter!

I don't have an official "tag list" for this, but I'm going to tag a few who may be interested based on comments/reblogs from the past part. I can remove you if you want: @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain / @lwfics / @missladym1981 / @alltheseperfectimperfections / @anavatazes / @inept-the-magnificent / @weho2kcmo / @casa-boiardi / @undercoverpena / @survivingandenduring / @secretelephanttattoo / @sin-djarin / @readingiskeepingmegoing / @trulybetty

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

could I ask for hcs for how day to day life would change for erwin, hange, and levi's s/o after dealing with their notable injuries they get during the story? IE erwin's arm, hanji's eye, levi's scars, eye, and fingers ect? I hope this was clear enough I hope you have a nice day/night!

Sure thing and don't worry I understood you're request just fine, thank you. I hope you're having a nice current timezone anon :)

(Gender neutral reader)

Erwin Smith

Things are... mostly the same as the were before for the most part. Not right away though because of course all the stuff with Rod Reiss, Historia, the man hunt for Survey Corps heads, and the fact Erwin was quite literally sentenced to death not that long after losing it so things were of course very hectic to where there wasn't really a good adjustment period until the two month preparation period to reclaim Shingashima.

It's a shame really, it was his dominant hand too, now all his paperwork is signed with a slight messiness to it he isn't exactly a fan of. But he makes do, relearning and rewiring how his brain works to make up for the lost limb. But even if he doesn't say it out loud, you know more than anyone exactly how hard it is for him - even if to so many people he has so many different airs and appearances to keep.

"Oh it's just an arm, a small sacrifice for the greater good of Humanity. Many good, amazing, talented people have lost more. This is a minor scratch compared to that."

That's what he told Nile that night over dinner together with you and Marie too after Erwin's charges had been offically cleared off the records. Truth be told, none of you at that table bought it, even if he really did intentionally mean it - you three knew him, and it was subtle but with how he struggled to pick up and properly use the fork in his sole surviving hand spoke all it need to. It was a very human struggle - one he did everything to hide.

He can't shave his face by himself anymore, he has trouble putting his uniform on every morning, he needs to relearn how to use ODM gear in a modified way, he has to do an awkward version of the salute now, he struggles with how to maneuver and get himself clean in the shower for the longest until he comes up with a routine on how to do it one handed, he still has enemies so he has to rewire how he thinks of defending himself, he has to learn how to deal with this odd... phantom feeling of his missing arm still being there like in the stories he'd hear from injured soldiers. It's all hard, but he manages, braves through but he's very thankful to have you and so many close others at his side that are willing to help him through it.

Also misses holding your hand. During a meeting with Queen Historia, her Majesty speaking excitedly about her plans to help out orphans - specifically those from Underground, as Levi had made sure to suggest - that as the core members of the Survey Corps stood in audience, he couldn't help but to glance over at where you stood at one side of him, nodding supportively along to Historia's desires about letting the children have fun on her new acquired farm lands, that does he stare at you - at your hand more specifically, as you are standing at his side with the dangling green military coat sleeve. It's rude, he knows, not paying attention as the Queen speaks about her noble causes but he finds himself not being able to help it. For just a second - and maybe, probably, he's deluding this - but for a second he feels the empty sleeve move on it's own to graze at your hand as to grab it - immediately gaining your attention as you stare over at him with your gorgeous eyes that every time he looks at him he falls in love all over again, over and over and the way your head questioningly tilts as if to ask him if something was wrong does his throat turn dry but his lips slightly part until-

A rough kick comes subtly to his paralleled ankle at his other side, Levi. The Captain doesn't look at him, he just keeps his arms crossed over his chest and intently listens to Historia's plans, however, he quietly scolds under his breath: "Pay attention."

Right... he was being very rude. He shouldn't get lost up in silly stuff like this in such important professional times such as these. But... when you suddenly reach over and hold onto the sleeve just as it were his flesh hand only weeks prior, so sincerely and lovingly... he can't help but the dumb smile on his face.

Everything will be fine. He's still the same man. There'll be struggle, some more getting use to - afterall, it's only been a couple weeks if not a month. There's plenty of recovery time in the future, he knows it. After Shingashima, he decides, maybe then he'll take some time off - spend with you and truly attune himself with the lacking arm. And maybe... maybe if he practices a bit first with his still lack of balance... he can still properly get down on his knees and take out that heavy ring in his breast pocket and ask you that question that's been on his mind.

Hanji Zoë

Going to be perfectly honest, the missing eye is the least of Hanji's issues at the moment. It's still a struggle, yes, the now partial blindness that they have to now wear a patch over and it takes a couple weeks to properly get accumulated and not bumping into walls, doors, tables, and other stuff on accident. But it becomes something that's like second nature to the new Commander very quickly on.

Now... the sight isn't the issue. The mountain of other things that came with Shingashima is, both mental and physical.

The obvious is the new Commander position, taking over Erwin's role puts so much on their shoulders and not just that - having to put on this brave face for the only - ten, including themselves, Survey Corps members that survived that bloodbath. They're in charge, everyone's looking up to them them for advice, for orders, for their command. Meanwhile... Hanji hasn't even had proper time to grief for not just one but two of their best friends... Erwin. Moblit... that first night was the roughest, coming back home, to their now old office and practically broke down crying where you had to comfort them all night - they didn't sleep for the next four days straight. They stayed cooped in that office while everyone else was on leave to go properly recover and only let you attend to them. Hanji isn't... the same after that - and everyone notices but doesn't dare to speak on it. They aren't the quirky titan-obsessed quack anymore. They were the calculating 14th Commander of the Survey Corps, Hanji Zoë.

Hanji is also particularly deaf in their right ear now, even if they were - mostly - uninjured from the Colossal Titan nuke, the sound of the impact definitely damaged it a bit before they were tossed in deep the well by Moblit. They've never said the fact out loud to anybody, only you and Levi are aware of the fact, but they read lips more often than not now. So you make sure you always make it able to where they can properly read your lips when you speak to them, and if you can learn a bit of sign language that would also be very helpful.

Doesn't sleep as much as they used to. They say it's because they're too busy - Commander work and still helping out ironing out political matters and issues that still came with Historia's crowing as the new Queen of the Walls and the hectic readjustment period of getting Maria's old settlements rebuilt and ready for resettlement - but that's not just it. There's the nightmares now. Keeping them awake just to not wake them up screaming in the middle of the night and you have to loose sleep comforting them. They should be fine with it, they tell themselves, after all what they said back on that roof to Mikasa was true; they've seen hundreds of their comrades die - no actually, not a hundred... too many more than that to count. And each time they've been strong about it... distracting themselves in their research not to let themselves dwell on it too long. But now... no matter how hard they tried, nothing worked. Maybe it's because it was Erwin and Moblit, the closest two other people they had besides you and Levi. Or maybe it's because only ten fucking people out of the entire fucking Regiment survived that damn day.

And now that the truth is out there, what titans actually are, titan research isn't fun anymore. They could very easily drag one in a captured area and poke amd prod and maybe learn a little bit more on how the transformation process actually works - Connie Springer's mother would be a good example but just looking at that boy they can't bring themselves to even suggest it - but they don't. They just... sign off on papers all day. Try not to think about overseas that much. Not yet anyway.

Things are slightly better by the time you've made contact with the volunteers and the core Scouts had made their way to embark on Marley. Seeing new sights, new people, new inventions none of you could possibly even dream of was quite thrilling. Hanji has a great time, holding onto your hand and sporadically yapping on and on about this "car," or this "tele - phone," or this "controllable electricity." in the exact same manner and way they use to about titans - that wide shit eating smile that goes from ear to ear plastered to their face for the first time in years you love to see as you nod along and just listen and let them ask Onyankopon every possible question that comes to their head - the man having trouble even keeping up with them. It's nice while it last... but it's not too long until the 14th Commander comes back when reminded about why you're all here in the first place...

It's late at night one night, the night before you were all supposed to go back to Paradis does Hanji stare up at the ceiling of your shared room in the Azumabito astate. They have their eye patch off - feeling comfortable around you for you to see the mangled socket that normally rests underneath - as they lie back in bed and listen to you shuffle around to get into your night-wear to get ready to join them.

"I'm thinking..." They finally speak, you look back over your shoulder at them - sprawled out on messy sheets with only wrapped circuit of bandages around their chest to hide the shape. "...I'm thinking that Armin should be my successor. What you think?"

You tell them he's a smart kid, very talented at what he does but... given, past history... you express your feelings that it might be a lot to put on him, given the position of it's weight. Erwin's weight. Erwin's impact. Hanji's impact.

Yeah, probably true, they tell you. And they reminisce on how they felt when Erwin had dropped the sudden bombshell on them... God. They were turning more into him everyday... but you crawl over to the bed and start to kiss their face before the Commander can sulk in it. You love them, you tell them that every chance you get and it never fails to leave a gentle look in Hanji's remaining eye, their expression softening. They joke, saying how much you probably miss the old up-beat crazy Squad Leader Hanji... but you shake your head, hands so loving on their face as you tell them straight up you love them now just as much as you did back then - damaged and all.

Without hesitation they ask you to marry them.

Levi Ackerman

Hard. Very hard at first. He can only particularly see, for the first year or so his stitches itch to a very grading degree, he has only eight digits on his hands where using the left is... very difficult, especially with his unique ways of holding things, and he can't walk. Humanity's strongest - that ridiculous title... now look at him. He "entered" the Survey Corps ten years ago and now every single person around him then is dead - except you. During those first few days of the Rumbling he didn't really think about it - with all the shit going on he had other things to think about than have time to really... process. But here he is now, couple days after the "Battle of Heaven and Earth," as he's hearing people call it. Now in his time to heal does it really set in. And at first he doesn't take it... well.

Once he's well enough to be off bedrest and he's in that "damn chairwheels," you and Onyankopon manage to buy him (hard to come by given how... very much damaged the world still is post Rumbling) you're going to have to have to keep your eye on him because for the first couple weeks he will try to get up and walk around - only damaging his hurt leg more. He feels restricted in it, he wants to go where he damn well pleases - you tried crutches for a while but... he's actually too short for the ones you manged to find post Rumbling, so he's left to that chair. It just takes him time to get use to, that's all. Eventually though, months after the Crisis has been over, it's when you start taking him out places - steering him through the rebuilding cities of Marley, talking about God knows what, that he starts to come around... maybe it's not that bad, annoying, sure, but he feels a lot calmer now. Those kids - Gabi and Falco, they help too. Sometimes they drive him around but he isn't exactly the biggest fan when they clumsily knock him into shit though but they're cute kids, they remind him a lot of much younger versions of Isabel and Farlan, how they'd bicker all the time...

The two of you have a cabin together in Marley, a nice cozy cabin that with the help of Onyankopon - who smuggily calls himself a bit of 'builder' - is modified a bit so that it's more accessible for Levi to move around, plenty enough ofvplace to roam so he doesn't feel couped up like he expressed he didn't want when getting the place. It's nice though, Levi's never had a real house before - only somewhat exception being that dingy little apartment he and Kenny used to live in Underground and then he lived with Farlan and Isabel in it too before joining the Corps. Besides that it's always just been either a whorehouse, military base, or temporary spots he wouldn't even shit in. All shared spaces. Not something that was... his. Though of course he lives with you, you are his s/o but you're different. No, he lived... with you. You own this house together. It's his. It's yours. It's yours (plural).

He can't clean as properly as he use to, getting down on the ground and scrubbing top to bottom and every single crack in the room, of course he can't do that anymore so - and to make him feel better, feel good and comfortable in your own home together you do it, you keep the place always spotless. And he still wants to actively clean of course, the process has always been therapeutic for him, he just can't do it as thorough as he once did but he still will do what he can from the confines of sitting down while you do all the very high and very low lifting.

His senses are still sharp, even with his half blindness. But even still, you always make sure to stand on his good side and if your on the blind you make sure to audibly announce your presence even if he could probably still sense you - Ackerman biology boosting it by tenfold, after all - you do it because it's polite and he does appreciate that.

Mostly handles things with his good hand anyway but is in the habit of dropping things whenever it comes to his less-good one, there's only so much you can do with only three fingers (including thumb) on one hand without being issues. It takes awhile before he even let's you hold that hand again and when he does the first several times he always hesitates, but it all flutters away when you carefully and gently intertwine your fingers with his good ones and your pointer and middle finger lovingly folds over his numbs. Or when you kiss delicately at each of his knuckles on that hand... it's weirdly sweet, weirdly romantic, he thinks.

It's been three years now. Domestic bliss is something Levi never thought existed - or he he did, never, never ever in his thirty-seven year life would he ever think he'd get to live such a thing. The two of you sit in front of the lake off to the side of your cabin, sitting on a lunch-bench watching on as Gabi and Falco are completely red in the face, awkwardly and loudly confessing their feelings to one another in only that embarrassingly sweet way teenagers could. It's sweet... to watch on. You look over and see the small, subtle yet warm, soft smile on Levi's lips. Proud of them, those two dumb kids that's been helping the two of you out for years now. You laugh, causing him to look over at you.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing,"

The giggling in your chest dies down as you watch as the two kids untactfully bump their faces together in an attempted kiss but Falco jolts back holding his forehead in pain, and Gabi's face to turn an even darker red as she yells something at him.

"Do you think we're too old now to act like that?"

Grey eye rolls. "When have I ever acted like that?"

"Oh I can name quite the few times when we first first started dating-"

He suddenly grabs at your face with a: "Hush." before kissing you, the worn stitches on his lips against yours always feel nice. Then he leans back, staring at you with lingering thoughts before his eye flicks back over to the kids now sweetly in each other's arms.

"You know, I was going to ask you something today but those brats decided to go ahead and make it about themselves..." He says, no real malice in his voice, just teasing. But you tilt your head out of curiosity.

"Ask me what?"

He sits back on the bench and stares out onto the lake. His wheelchair is parked off to the side, it's in a bag. He could reach over and pluck it out now. It was something he actually picked out years ago... something he never thought he needed because he never expected to reach this point together with you but Hanji talked his ear off into buying it and Erwin gave him this... teasing encouraged look with that weird smile of his that he'll never forget for the rest of his life. And he's kept it with him, all the time, it's always been on him in some shape or form. Honestly he wasn't sure how you didn't manage to find it already.

He looks back over to you and you're still intently staring back over at him. Maybe. Maybe he still could now.

"Ask me what?"

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

[inklore]

May I request  “you’re so warm.” “i hear you, but we really need to get up, love.” for the holiday celebration?

Side note: I’m new to your blog and I’m loving everything!

pairing: namor x queen!reader

warnings: eighteen+ content, they married so established relationship, mentions of trying to conceive, teasing, sexy fluff.

note: i had to rework the second line to fit more namor, i hope you don’t mind, lovey <3 but writing softness with this man makes me swoon for real.

translations: In yakunaj (my love), ko’olelo’ tortuosa (tortuous woman).

Biologically you know the logic of ocean creatures being cold blooded. The deeper you travel down the colder the temperature, the more the water feels like ice constricting your passages and tearing into your skin like knives. It’s why you can’t leave this cavern and visit his city without gearing up.

But Namor seems to defy all logic. All things you thought you knew about the world and what was biologically capable and taught in a textbook or lab. One of the many defying qualities of his: his warmth. The temperature of his body never wavering whether he was on the surface or in the depths of the sea.

It’s a warmth you love waking up to—pressed to your back or flush against your cheek as you cuddle into his chest.

His heat at your back feels better than any blanket that could possibly be woven. The heat engulfing you like a furnace, the cave a stinging cold contrast to the warmth his body provides in the bed; on your skin, lulling your limbs to stay close to him, to stay in bed.

“You’re so warm.” You hum, sleep still clinging to you, still wanting to be had. Your voice soft and groggy.

His smile presses into your cheek when he wraps his forearm more securely around you, pulling you closer, and pressing the softest kiss to your cheek. “Yes, I know.” He mumbles against your skin as he leaves a trail of kisses from your cheek, jawline, below it, and to the beginnings of your neck. “But we must get up. Our people are going to think all we do is lay with each other, doing nothing productive. It does not look good.”

“Didn’t Namora tell us to stay in bed until we have secured an heir?”

“Yes, In yakunaj. But–”

“Who are we to not listen to her demands? She is our people correct? Your second hand–your–” he cuts you off with his mouth. His lips capture yours in a silencing kiss, maneuvering your frame so he’s now lying chest to chest with you.

“I have pumped you full for days, In yakunaj. It will take. We must do other duties.” His thumb rubs along your jaw, amusement in the up turn of his lips.

“What’s one more try?” You know you’re playing dirty, know that the two of you really should stretch and do something other than bask in each other's warmth. But that can come later, right now you want to drown in the feel of his chest on top of yours, and his cock between your thighs. So you push your hips up and let them drag along his quickly hardening cock. The soft groan he lets out feeling like a victory. “K’uk’ulkan,” you moan against his mouth as you roll your hips once more—for good measure.

“Who knew I married such a ko'olelo' tortuosa,” he growls as he slots himself between your thighs and presses his mouth to yours; hard, teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

[ddejavvu]

hey! i just broke up w my bf of almost two years today and have been really sad.

I wanted to thank you for your works bc there helping me get through this. your hotch x reader works are keeping me sane

idk if your interested but maybe a request of reader breaking up with their partner and is very sad was bc they were so busy w the bau and life so they think its best and hotch is there for her and comforts them. he has feelings for them but doesnt want to make a move bc yk newly single. but he does little things to make her feel better bc he likes to see her smile :)

this is completely self service so you dont have to write but i love you works i think ur my fav writer on here :) i hope all is well love 💜

hi lovey! first off, i'm so sorry that you're going through a breakup. I hope that this can help even just a little bit, please take care of yourself and eat something yummy <333

--

Today holds new experiences for both you and Aaron. For example, you've never seen him in sweatpants before, and he's never seen you with 4 hours worth of tear-induced eye bags.

As luck would have it, when you turn into the tissue aisle, the metal bars of another cart smash into your own. They weren't going fast, but you were, hellbent on getting what you need and getting out again, so the screeching of metal on metal only makes your headache worse.

"Sorry," You rush, keeping your eyes averted as you yank your cart away from the other. You keep conversation short, but the voice that comes from the person you'd just rammed into makes you stiffen instinctually.

"Y/N?"

It's Hotch.

It's your boss, the man who you try extra hard to be nothing but professional around. The man who's seen you only in perfectly dry cleaned pantsuits and neat hair is seeing you in pajama pants and crocs with a nose so swollen it looks like you've been stung by a bee.

"Hotch," You cringe, nodding politely as you try maneuvering your cart around his, "Sorry for bumping into you. I was in a hurry."

"I can see that," He grabs onto the bars of your cart to stop you from pushing it anywhere, and you chance a cautious look up at his face; his brow is knit in concern, and his eyes are shining with the same look. But your glance upwards reveals that his son is with him, a boy no more than four years old sitting in the cart and looking at you with a tiny hint of terror on his little face, something that probably stems from your no-makeup zombie look. He's mid-chew on a tiny handful of popcorn that he'd probably begged his dad for at the front.

"What happened?" Aaron asks, pulling your attention back to him, and you're slightly relieved he doesn't go for 'Are you alright?'. Clearly, you're not.

"Uh," You sniffle, chuckling dryly, "Bad breakup. Just- getting some tissues, that's all."

"Oh." He hums, hand loosening on your cart, "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Um," You glance around the store, knowing not many people are there, but it would still be weird to open up a therapy session in the TP aisle, "No, it's okay. Thank you, though. Really, I appreciate it."

"Okay," Aaron nods, though none of the concern has left his expression, "But if you'd like to some other time, please remember I'm here if you need me. Even if it's late, if you need help I'll give it to you."

His sincerity brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes that he smiles sadly at, and you smear a hand over your eyes to get rid of them, "Thanks, Hotch."

"Mhm," He hums, looking ready to let you go until his son hooks a chubby fist into his shirt.

"Hm?" Aaron looks down, and leans his head next to Jack's when the little boy tugs him closer.

They huddle for a moment, Jack whispering into Aaron's ear, and the man's hand tightens around your cart once more. Just when you thought you'd escaped.

"I think you should." Aaron nods, straightening up, glancing over, and nodding his head towards you, "Go ahead, buddy."

Jack looks up at you with that same hint of apprehension you'd seen earlier, but he digs a fist into his popcorn bucket and extends the hand to you. You actually feel your heart melting, the organ liquifying and dripping through your ribcage to pool like goo in your stomach.

"Uh- maybe," Aaron reaches for the bucket, intent on giving you a handful that hasn't touched sticky toddler hands, but you take Jack's offering without hesitation.

"Thank you, honey," You croon, and he drops the kernels into your open palm, "That does help, popcorn makes me much less sad."

"Daddy makes it for movie night." Jack's voice is soft and sweet, and you smile, sniffling weakly once more.

"Really? That sounds fun, what movies do you watch?"

"We're watching Monsters University tonight," Aaron informs you, then his posture straightens as an idea blooms in his brain, "Y'know, if popcorn makes you less sad, I think you should come and have some with us."

"Oh," Your eyes widen slightly, and you shake your head on impulse, "No, that's okay. I couldn't-"

"I'm asking you to." It's the firm voice Aaron uses whenever he's giving someone orders around the office; you suppose he can't separate his work life and home life completely.

"I don't like the thought of you being alone," Aaron admits, eyeing the ice cream already in your cart, "How about we pick up another pint and head to checkout?"

"I'll be okay," You reach for a package of tissues, extra large, "Don't worry about it, Aaron."

You don't see it, but Aaron pinches Jack's side lightly, spurring the boy into action.

"Please come over tonight," Jack begs, and you swear he's making his eyes shiny on purpose, "Mike Wazowski is funny, and you can't be sad if you're watching something funny."

Aaron raises his eyebrows at you, and you see the faint hint of a smirk playing at his lips; got you.

You take a deep breath in, speaking on the exhale, "Alright. Um, can I bring anything else?"

"Pajamas, maybe." Aaron hums, "Movie nights are always better in pajamas."

You glance disdainfully down at your outfit, ragged pajama pants and a sweatshirt, "Check."

"Perfect," Aaron chuckles, finally letting go of your cart and turning it towards the ice cream aisle, "Let's go, buddy, if Y/N's coming over tonight, you need a bath. She doesn't wanna sit with a stinky boy."

"I'm not stinky!" Jack insists, looking like he's never been more offended in his life.

Aaron leans in, theatrically sniffing at the space near Jack's shoulder. He bugs his eyes out, turning his head to the side and fake-coughing, "Woah."

Jack roars with laughter at his dad's dramatics, feet kicking at his Aaron's stomach, and the sound of his giggles make the popcorn you're munching on taste a little bit sweeter.

[kikarouflames]

Aot Fandom and Ableism:

For the past month, I have seen a lot of people hate and make fun of Levi for his disability. And some fans stating they don't like him anymore and thinks he is unattractive now that he has scars and needs a wheelchair. First of all, people who think this way, saying "it's just a personal opinion". No,its not. It's your sick ableism.

Thinking Levi is any less than he was before just because he is disabled, thinking he is in any way pathetic now that he can't function the way he used to IS ABLEISM.

Levi's disability doesn't make him any lesser of a man nor does it make him pathetic. Levi has sacrificed literally everything including his physical abilities, which is more noble and greater than anything. He is definitely not upset about being disabled now, he would give anything and everything for humanity. He must have many problems come his way now that he has lost and sacrificed so much, yes, he isn't that strong anymore. But he still as great of a man he ever was.

Does he has difficulty maneuvering on daily basis? Yes. But does it make him in any way less greater than he was before? Absolutely NOT.

Also, you are not only making fun of Levi or hating on him, you're basically hating on every person who has lost or sacrificed thier physical and emotional capabilities. You are literally hating people who had no control over what they were not born with or has lost/sacrificed in any way. Being physically, mentally or emotionally challenged and disabled doesn't make anyone any less of a human.

Yes, Levi did not deserve to be disabled, he is a very kind hearted person, most selfless, a genuine hero, life isn't fair, war is merciless, it takes and takes and gives nothing, this brutal realism is what aot has always depicted. All those people who are disabled didn't deserve it either, that doesn't mean they are any less. He is still all those things even now that he is disabled, and even more, those physical, emotional and mental losses he has faced is a proof of his determination and inherent drive to save humanity.

The only one that should be ashamed are ableists. Levi's loss of capabilities isn't something to be shamed but something to be proud of. He is a hero in every way. He deserves respect, admiration, and love.

I saw a post on pinterest long ago making fun of Levi's fangirls saying something along the lines "have fun pushing his wheelchair instead", apparently it was a way of saying he is unattractive or doesn't have an appeal because he is old and disabled, it wasn't the first post or person I saw saying this. Well, I don't mind pushing his wheelchair or taking care of him at all, it would be an honor to be granted such an opportunity and position of his caretaker, he was humanity's greater soldier. He is still the great man he ever was. And don't say "it's a joke", "Don't be a snowflake". It's ableist people like these that makes living and believing in ones self as a challenged individual, in any way, be it physical, mental or emotional, so hard.

I am a able-bodied person, but I have some friends who aren't, and Ableism is truly an ugly thing, my friends' experiences with it was horrible. I had to speak up on it.

For all the ableist or covert ableist out there, the only one who is any less of a human and should be ashamed is YOU, for being cold enough to think disabilities are pathetic or makes anyone any less for having it.